Wild is the Wind
by Ms Starlight
Summary: When Zack comes back for Max, she has to decide to go or stay...but discovers something about herself on the way.
1. Part 1

Rating: R (this part's not really R worthy, but things will get there)   
A/N: This story is set after my story The Key...which is why Logan can walk. Other than that, you don't have to have read   
that story to get this one. This isn't a sequel, don't assume that anything other than Logan gaining the ability to walk has occurred. I know where I'm going with this, but I honestly have no idea how I'm going to get there....so, I guess we'll all be surprised!   
*I don't own Dark Angel...blah blah blah...* 

Wild Is The Wind

  


_"You need someone to hold you_   
_Somebody to be there night and day_   
_Someone to kiss your fears away_   
_I just went on pretending_   
_Too weak, to proud, too tough to say_   
_I couldn't be the one_   
_To make your dreams come true_   
_That's why I had to run_   
_Though I needed you..."_   
_-Bon Jovi_

Max frowned to herself as she swung open her medicine cabinet and retrieved a bottle of tryptophan. Her hand shook as she twisted the cap off and poured out three of the beige colored pills. Her heart racing, she tossed them toward the back of her mouth and swallowed. The three small objects slid dryly down her throat. 

"Hey Max, you almost done in there?" Kendra called from the other side of the door. Max, feeling hot and frightened, slumped against the wall, allowing herself to slide down into a sitting position. 

"Almost," she choked out. 

"Okay...well, hurry up!" Kendra replied. Max was dimly aware of the sound of her friend's footsteps as she walked away from the bathroom door. Kendra was aware that Max had seizures, but Max couldn't bring herself to make her health problem a social event. So, she locked herself away during the seizures, claiming that they were extremely infrequent to her friends. 

She clenched her jaw to keep from biting her tongue as the tremors suddenly hit her harder than normal. Her heart raced and she was ridiculously frightened of what was happening to her body. She wasn't the kind of woman who panicked easily, and there certainly wasn't anything she would admit to being afraid of. However, isolated in a small, run down bathroom only feet away from a friend, but unable and unwilling to call out, she felt terrified. 

She fought against the heated jittery feeling that fear brought her as the tremors began to subside. She knew it wasn't the tryptophan causing the seizure to ebb, and braced herself for another. It took a while for the chemical to work its way through her system and raise her seratonin levels back to normal. She'd taken some earlier that morning, but it obviously hadn't helped as much as she'd hoped. 

She heard Kendra humming in the other room. It was some song that Max didn't know. She closed her eyes for a moment and envisioned a woman, one with dark hair and eyes. She imagined this woman holding her, humming softly, her fingers lightly petting and soothing. Max had never had the benefit of a mother, never known true nurturing or love. 

_Maybe that's why I'm so screwed up now._

The shaking subsided enough for Max to pretend nothing was wrong. Fixing a plastic coated smile on her lips, she rose on un-nervingly weak legs and tossed open the bathroom door. 

Kendra looked up from her coffee, her eyes seeking a connection with Max's. Max adverted her gaze, not wishing to share what was on her mind. 

"It's all yours," she said over her shoulder. 

"Thanks," Kendra replied distractedly and headed for the bathroom. She was a perceptive woman, but she knew better than to question Max's constantly vacillating mood. Max wasn't into discussing her problems, albeit she was all too often involved in other peoples' anymore. 

Max pulled on a cap and was walking out the door when her beeper, which was sitting forgotten in her jacket pocket, alerted her to the fact that she had obligations. Cussing under her breath, she turned around and plucked it out of the jacket that was slung over her black ninja. She knew who it was, she just didn't know whether she was in the mood to see him or not. 

_Doesn't he realize some of us actually have jobs?_

Sighing, she decided to pay him a visit during one of her runs to see what he wanted. Beeper in hand, she fought back the mild shaking that was once again effecting her body, and walked out the door. 

She was somewhat unsteady as she rode her bike to work. People milled about in front of her and she swerved between them by pure rote. She could feel the almost imperceptible shuttering in the muscles of her legs and arms. It was a strange sensation, being betrayed by her own body. She couldn't help but think of it as being highly ironic that she, a custom built fighting machine, could be done in so easily by a completely seemingly benign chemical.   
  
"Your late," Normal observed as she walked her bike past him. He didn't even bother to look up at her, just knew with his irritatingly apt sixth sense that an employee hadn't arrived on time. He tossed her a package. "Maybe now that your finally here, you can do a little thing people like me call work." 

_Ass._

"Sure thing," she replied sunnily. She spun on her heel, getting back on her bike. She trembled slightly, but the tryptophan was beginning to take effect. 

Her beeper beeped angrily at her, demanding attention like a spoiled child. Whatever Logan wanted, it apparently was important. She resolved to go see as soon as she dropped off her package. 

The air was unusually crisp for a spring morning. The dismal scent of the city and the poverty within it was starkly naked around her. She tried not to notice it, tried not to care. At one point, the plight of others hadn't bothered her. Since meeting Logan, it had come into focus and she couldn't blindly ignore it. She'd walked away from Zack for it, for him. 

_Zack._

She'd searched for him for so long, and finding him had been a heavy disappointment. He didn't see Max as his sister, as family. Max had clung to the idea that finding Zack would give her existence some kind of meaning. However, when she finally did find him -- or, rather when he found her -- all she'd found was a rigid commando. Zack lived his life like G.I. Joe, still allowed Manticore to taint his mind and blacken his heart. 

Max had been just like him, she hadn't cared. Until she'd met Logan, he saw someone else within her. She still didn't see the same person he saw, in fact, she didn't think she could possibly live up to Logan's expectations. She'd wondered through many long nights if she'd been right to turn her back on Zack and walk back to Logan. Zack did care about her, albeit in an odd faltering way. At least he understood, he knew what she'd been through, was one of the only people in the world who could possibly claim to truly have empathy for her. 

She turned a corner, coming to a stop in front of a large, shiny building. The windows on it were reflective, making them look impeccably clean from a distance. Package in hand, she strode confidently inside to make the delivery. 

*** 

"Why isn't she here yet?" Zack demanded, his irritation rising. The muscles in his wide shoulders were bunched up tightly. 

Logan could feel stress radiating from the other man. He couldn't deny the distaste he felt for Zack. He was, for lack of a better description, one of the biggest hard asses Logan had ever had the pleasure of meeting. He was often highly demanding, and downright rude. 

"I'm sure she's on her way," Logan replied, unwilling to page Max a third time for him. He hadn't seen her as much during the past few weeks as he usually did. Now that he could walk, he was able to do more of his own footwork. He'd definitely gained back some of the confidence he had lost and was less willing to put Max in danger. 

"I can't wait much longer," Zack replied. There was another kind of tension in him that Logan pained to think about. He liked Max, liked her in a way that made Logan violently jealous. He bitterly imagined the other man's tightly reined excitement at the prospect of seeing her again. 

"She has a job, Zack," Logan reminded him, biting back a vicious comment. "She could have been in the middle of something when I paged her. She'll be here when she can." 

"Yeah, whatever," Zack grumbled and flopped down onto Logan's couch. The first thing Logan had noticed when Zack showed up at his door was that, delightfully, he was taller than the other man. It was a small, sick victory, but one nonetheless. Zack had peered up at Logan, irritation flashing in his sharp eyes. Logan got the very distinct feeling that the other man wasn't nearly as delighted about his recovery as his shadowed congratulations had implied. 

The doorbell rang, and Zack leapt up off the couch to look at it like a tiger positioned to pounce. He was, undoubtedly, more feral than Logan could ever hope to be. He found himself distantly wondering as he walked to the door -- _walked _to the door, that was a good feeling -- if his animalistic nature was something Max found attractive. 

He swung the door open to met by a pair of very hostile, chocolate brown eyes. 

"You know...I'm kind of busy today, Logan," she said tightly. "This had better be some kind of emergency." 

Logan shrugged, for once being able to leave Max's anger to land on someone else. He'd faced the brunt of her temper many times, and he knew what it could do to a man's unguarded heart. For a moment, he pitied Zack. He immediately retracted his pity as the other man lunged toward Max, and her eyes lit. 

"Zack! You're back!" she wrapped her arms around his neck. Logan fumed, but hid it with a light smile. After all, Max deserved to have someone like Zack in her life. She still considered him a brother, as far as Logan knew, and she desperately wanted to be able to connect with someone on that level. As much as Logan disliked Zack, he couldn't deny her. 

"Max," Zack ground out her name as if she were plated in gold, diamonds, and platinum. It sent a hot pain through Logan's heart. 

"Why are you back?" she asked as she pulled away, not even looking at Logan, who was trying his best not to curl into a ball and die. 

"I want you to come with me," he announced. "Seattle has become the focal point of Lydecker's activities. It's too dangerous for you to stay here...but if you come with me, we could be safe."   
  
Logan noted that Zack had said _we_. Zack was a man who, had Logan not known what he'd been through, would have said was deathly afraid of commitment. He never spoke in the plural sense. Previously when he'd asked Max to leave Seattle, he'd been careful to point out that they would not stay together. This time, he made no such indication. 

_Sentimentality may be phony, but he apparently believes whole-heartedly in his sex drive._

Logan was starting to feel overly bitter, and he made a discrete exit, leaving Max alone to field the suggestion. Having no particular task to keep him busy, he wandered into his office and sat down in front of his computer. Oddly, the machine was one of his most stead-fast companions. When he couldn't sleep, it was his computer that he poured his consciousness into. He used it as a tool to relieve every type of emotional difficulty, because it was the one thing he could really loose himself in. Within it was a world he had custom created, one of files and order. One which connected dimly to the real world, but provided a view of it with such complete emotionless that it was bearable. 

He threw himself into his work: researching, hacking, saving. It helped sometimes to think of himself as the savior of hundreds of people. It was an identity he had come to embrace, but one that didn't hold up. After all, he was only human, and when Max was around he was an unusually charged human. 

She turned him into a different man. He wanted nothing more than to push away all the things she had to fear -- if indeed she did fear anything -- and give her everything she desired from life. However, he couldn't do that. He couldn't even come close. Zack was better for her in the long run, he always would be. With Logan, she would always be in danger, would always be unhappy. 

He turned in his chair when Max walked into the room. He could always tell when it was her, although he wasn't sure how. Whether he recognized her footsteps, her scent, or just had a sixth sense didn't really matter, the only thing that matter was that she was close. 

"I've gotta blaze," she announced. "Mind Zack crashing here tonight?" 

"No, Zack can stay as long as he wants," he replied sweetly, hoping to extract one of her smiles. 

She smiled. 

"Thanks, Logan. I'll drop by later on," she turned to leave, then paused. She looked back at him over her shoulder, her eyes flashing. "Sorry I yelled at you." 

*to be continued* 


	2. Part 2

Rating: R   
** I do not own Dark Angel...or Bon Jovi...actually, I should own both of them, but Bon Jovi and Michael Weatherly got those restraining orders and...well....just kidding :) **

A/N: Well...I was going to hold out and not post this until like Friday or something (I actually had this written about half an hour after the first part) but, since I hate suspence, here you go...   
Oh yeah...and I promise, this will get happier! lol...all my stories seem like such downers, but don't worry, this one will be untimately happy...trust me ;-)   
  
  
  


Wild is the Wind   
Part 2

_"You need someone to hold you_   
_Somebody to be there night and day_   
_Someone to kiss your fears away_   
_I just went on pretending_   
_Too weak, to proud, too tough to say_   
_I couldn't be the one_   
_To make your dreams come true_   
_That's why I had to run_   
_Though I needed you..."_   
_-Bon Jovi_   


Zack sat on Logan's plush couch looking out the windows across Seattle. The city was a dismal place, one he didn't like very much. He wasn't a people person, and for the most part he liked to be on his own. His dirty blonde hair fell in front of his eyes as he looked down at his hands, which were laying clenched in his lap.

He had been all over the world, seen thousands of people in hundreds of settings, but he couldn't get Max out of his head. She'd haunted him all of his life. Her dark, intelligent eyes and easy manner were...intoxicating.

"Hungry?" Logan asked as he walked through the room. Zack narrowed his eyes, not liking the other man, and shook his head. Max had left him for the man once, and he'd been crippled then. He didn't particularly like the idea that Logan was mobile enough to put thoughts in Max's beautiful head -- thoughts Zack wouldn't mind sticking in himself.

Zack's heart had dropped down into his shoes when Logan had opened the door to his penthouse, his eyes a good three inches above Zack's own. If the infuriating man was going to be better at everything than Zack, he could at least have the decency to be smaller.

Logan shrugged and walked toward the kitchen.

_I hope he falls into the fucking fridge and cracks his damn head open._

Somehow, the image struck him as slightly amusing. A low chuckle erupted from him before he had the chance to suppress it. He wasn't the rigid man that people generally thought he was. Zack liked to party, perhaps a little too much. He would try almost anything for a little fun.

He could have a lot of fun with Max. He leaned his head back for a moment and envisioned her walking toward him on a sandy beach somewhere in the Caribbean, dressed in a tiny black bikini. Her hair flowing out behind her, riding on the soft fragrant island breeze...

He snapped out of the reverie when he realized that going further with it would make him highly uncomfortable. There would be plenty of time for _that_ later.

Digging his fingers into his hair he yawned and stretched.

"I'm going to clean up," Zack announced when Logan re-entered the room. He'd been on the road for some time and his hair felt gross to the touch. Not to mention, he had the feeling that he probably didn't smell as nice as Logan did; who Zack had noticed smelled softly of soap, shampoo, and a light fresh cologne. Zack didn't own any cologne. He made a mental note to buy some that smelled better than Logan's.

"All right, have at it," Logan shrugged and, a bowl of something that Zack had to admit smelled delicious in hand, walked back to his office.

_Not one of the most exciting men I've ever met. What do he and Max do for fun? Delete a file?_

He walked into Logan's bathroom, which was incredibly large and lavish. The room smelled of money, and not just a little. Frowning, he took off his jacket and tossed it onto the floor. The jacket was followed shortly by his black T-shirt.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He wasn't a bad looking man, and was well sculpted. Yet, he looked empty. He needed Max more than Logan, she needed him. They were one of a kind, she belonged at his side.

***

Max smiled up at Logan as he handed her a warm cup of tea. It was classically him to have tea rather than coffee, wine instead of beer. He had incredible taste, something Max couldn't help but admire.

Zack sat across from her. He had cleaned up since she'd seen him earlier that day. She was glad to see him, but also disappointed. Logan hadn't paged her for anything in the past two weeks. Yet, he paged her twice for Zack. She peered at him over the rim of her cup. He wore a pair of cargo pants and a light blue shirt that looked very soft.

"What is it exactly that you want to do, Zack?" she asked, her attention turning back to her brother. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The action made the muscle in his shoulders bunch tightly together.

"I want you to come with me away from here," he replied. "I know you won't go if we don't stick together, but I can't let you stay here...so..."

Max's gaze drifted to Logan, who was looking down at his feet. She wanted to look in his eyes, see how he felt about the idea of her leaving, but his eyes stayed stubbornly fixed upon his shoe.

She took another sip of her tea, relishing the feel of the warm liquid sliding down her throat. She'd said no to Zack before, but that time had been so much different. Logan had been in danger then, now he didn't need her anymore. Besides that, she knew deep down that she could never be what he wanted her to be. He was a humanitarian, and Max was a soldier. How much more different could two people get? He expected her to care, to do what was right. He wanted her to help him save the world. She didn't know if she could.

Zack, however, all he wanted out of her was...what _did_ he want? She looked up at him, meeting his hot blue eyes. She wasn't so sure what he wanted with her, but she did know that he expected little. He expected her to act like the trained commando she was.

"How do I know you're not going to just split us up once we get far enough away from Seattle?" she asked.

"I won't," he replied.

"I'm just supposed to take your word on that?" she asked, suspicious.

"Max, you trusted me with your life once," he replied, his gaze darting to Logan momentarily. "How is it you can't trust me to keep my word to you know?"

He had a point, but Max wasn't sure that she wanted to leave. She had made Seattle her home, had friends that she didn't want to walk away from. As she looked across the room at her brother, she was tempted. If there was one thing she was willing to walk away from everything for, it was family. Zack was her family, the only family she had. She didn't know that she could walk away from him again.

"When do you want to leave?" she asked.

"Tomorrow," he answered. "The sooner, the better."

"I'll let you know tomorrow then if I'll be accompanying you," she replied, hiding her uncertain frown behind her cup as she finished off her tea. This time when she looked up Logan was looking at her. His expression was completely unreadable.

"I need a few things for the road," Zack announced as he stood up, obviously assuming Max was going to decide to come with him. That, or he had a plan B that she didn't know about. "Want to come along, Max?"

"No...I've got a job to quit and people to talk to if I'm going to leave," she replied. Zack flashed her a rare smile and, without even glancing at Logan, walked out of the penthouse to take care of whatever errands he had. His exit was quiet and graceful. He was like one of the big cats, a deceivingly beautiful predator.

Max sat for a moment after Zack left, the stillness between her and Logan settling upon them. She wondered what he was thinking, if he would miss her. He avoided eye contact with her for the first few moments, then slowly rose his cerulean blue eyes to meet hers.

"More tea?" she asked quietly, holding out her cup. He smiled lightly.

"You like that, huh?" he asked, getting up to take the cup from her. As he took it from her hand, their fingers brushed, causing both of them to wince. The following moment was painful, but necessary. Logan offered her a half smile and disappeared into the kitchen refill her cup.

Max readied herself for his return, trying to banish the deep emptiness the idea of a life without Logan left in her heart. She didn't want to think ahead, she knew what she had to do. Knew that she could never be what Logan needed, what he deserved. He would be better off to have a sweet, pretty wife who knew the proper uses of all the different forks he had.

_Wife? Why the hell am I thinking about what he needs in a wife?_

They weren't like that. Their relationship was...a business arrangement. She helped Logan and he in turn helped her. It had worked out well, but somehow, somewhere Max had gotten her feet tangled. Now, she was tripping, and it made her nervous.

"Here you go," he handed her the cup she had to recently handed to him. He had another cup that he was drinking from. It was a lighter colored liquid than what was in Max's.

"What's in yours?" she asked.

"Chamomile," he replied.

"Having trouble sleeping?" she inquired.

"Only lately," he answered cryptically. "Are you going to go with Zack?"

Another Logan-ism. He wasn't one to often dance around a subject he wanted to touch on. Of course, neither was Max.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. She'd never as open with anyone in her life as she was with Logan. Partly because whatever she didn't tell him, he usually found out about anyway. He'd been surprisingly understanding in all instances. No one had ever given her so much.

"I'd say he cares more than he lets on," Logan said as he sat down beside her. "He wouldn't be here if he didn't."

"I'm just not so sure anymore where I want to be headed," she shrugged. "Manticore was my life for so long, but now I've got more, and maybe I don't want to give that up to those bastards."

"I suppose that's a decision only you can make," Logan pointed out. Max looked up at him. Somewhere inside, she wanted him to beg her to stay. She wanted him to get on his knees and tell her that he couldn't possibly live without her. But, she knew that was one thing that would never happen. Logan could live without her, as much as she liked to pretend from time to time that he couldn't.

She forced a smile onto her face to hide her doubts about what she was about to decide. If she went with Zack, she wouldn't be running toward a new life. She would be running away from her old life, running from Logan. Things between them were getting out of hand. She cared too much; was setting herself up for much more heartache when he realized that what he saw when he looked at her was only a mirage, that she was a far cry from an avenging angel.

"Tired?" she asked.

"No," Logan took a drink of his chamomile tea as if to accent his answer. "You?"

"Nope," she bit at her bottom lip. "Want to go for a walk or something?" Logan slowly set his cup down on his end table. He stood up, turning away from her, and Max took the moment to observe the strong set of his shoulders. Her gaze moved down his back, past his shoulder blades, down to the arch of his back. There, underneath his soft looking shirt was the scar from his injury. She'd always somehow blamed herself for his getting shot. At the time she'd attributed it to his own stupidity, but had she been there, had she not left him high and dry, he wouldn't have the eternal reminder of her deflection.

"Normally, I'd say no on a night like tonight," Logan announced, nodding toward the window. The sky was black, and the air was wetly chilled. "But, being as it could be our last..."

He pulled on a black jacket and turned again to face her.

_Damn, he's cute._

She offered him a smile that effectually banked an onslaught of emotion. She couldn't help but be disgusted with herself. She had always prided herself on her ability to take things in stride. She hadn't realized how attached she'd become to Logan. It struck her as odd that he was the one who'd been able to breach her defenses. He wasn't feral or dangerous like Zack, he was classically charming. He was safe, easy...much too easy.

_Don't think about him that way, Max...pull yourself together, girl!_

He took the tea cup from her and set it beside his, then offered her his hand. She took it, and he pulled her up off the couch. He always seemed to be pulling her up, pulling her from a world where she was blindly satisfied -- she couldn't really say that she'd been happy, and not even content.

She and Logan walked out the door in what was to be their last moments together. Max promised herself she would cry later.

~more on the way~


	3. Part 3

Rating: R

***I own Dark Angel!! Actually...I fib too...I don't, not even remotely***

A/N: Man...you guys can play me like a piano! I cave...here you go. I was going to let it sit around on my computer for a while, but I guess I'm too nice (for the record, a pack of Logan clones, that's not scary...pretty sexy though! Bring em' on!! lol!)

(This one's my fav. so far...lol)

Wild Is The Wind   
Part 3

  
  


Logan was very aware of the fact that he was dreaming, but he didn't care. He held Max tightly to him as she whispered in his ear, her lips brushing against his sensitive skin.

"I could never leave you, Logan," she sighed. He wanted to be closer to her. He held her tighter until his arms were straining. His face was buried in her hair, which was incredibly soft and fragrant. It smelled sweet, but fresh.

"I don't want you to leave me," he replied. She lifted her head enough to look at him with her wonderful eyes. There was something about her eyes that made his heart stop. They left him gasping for breath, aching with every part of his body and soul to be with her forever.

"I'm not going to leave you," she said soothingly, her lips playing across his neck as she spoke. Chills rushed up the length of him. He moved one of his hands up to her head, where he entangled his fingers in her hair. Desperately, reverantly, he held her in a kiss. The taste of her lips on his own made his head spin. He couldn't bring himself to come up for air, so he didn't.

"I love you, Logan," she murmured against his lips. He thought for a moment that his heart was going to leap out of his chest. It pounded painfully against his ribs.

He choked on his reply, unable to speak and fully without words to express just how deeply and passionately he loved her. What he felt was beyond anything he had ever imagined. She was his everything, without her Logan knew he would die.

The sound of someone entering his penthouse brought him quickly out of the dream. He was sensitized to Max's coming and going, and even in his deepest sleep he was aware when someone arrived. It always was her, and he was never dissapointed. This time, however, he faced one of the most severe dissapointments of his life.

A form that could only have been Zack walked by his bedroom door, his wide shoulders high with irritation. Logan didn't get up immediately, he knew that would have been a mistake. He was only human, and dreaming about Max left him somewhat...he shook the images out of his head and tried to calm his thundering heart.

When he deemed himself properly decent, he put on his glasses, tossed off the covers, and walked somewhat hesitantly out into his living room. If anything, Zack couldn't accuse him of not being a good host.

Zack narrowed his eyes agrily at Logan when he came into the room.

"What are you doing up?" he asked bluntly.

"You may be super-human, but I'm not," he replied smartly. "I have to pee." With a grin that he knew would irritate the other man he dissapeared into the bathroom. He didn't actually have to go, but for effect he flushed the toilet. He spent a moment primping before returning to the living room, in which the air had already grown thick with tension.

"You're not going to try and convince Max to stay here, are you?" Zack asked. He was a blunt man.

"No," Logan replied truthfuly. He wanted to more than anything; he wanted to throw himself at her feet and beg her to stay. But, he couldn't do that. If she was going to stay, it had to be on her own accord. There would be nothing holding her back that she didn't want to. If there was one thing that Logan had come to realize about Max, it was that she was a woman not meant to be leashed. She was an untamed creature, and he didn't want to ever see her broken. He feared that if he asked her to stay, and she did, her spirit would loose some of the luster it's wild freedom gave it.

"Good, because reguardless, she's leaving," Zack replied sharply. "She can't stay here, I can't allow her to."

"She's done alright here so far," Logan pointed out.

Zack's eyes spit fire. "So far. But if she does get in trouble, who's going to save her? _You_?"

Logan tried not to let it show how his comment had driven into him like a dagger. He wasn't the strongest man in the world, but he would do anything to save Max. Every fiber of his being would strive to protect her from anything and everything. However, he had to admit that Zack's fibers seemed to be much more able than his own.

"I don't think you should take her away from here against her will if she decides to stay," Logan finally said with a calmness that surprised even him.

"It would be a gigantic tactical mistake for me to allow her to stay," he anwered with a clipped tone. "Max isn't just putting herself in danger. She's putting all of us in danger, which makes it our business."

"And you speak for everyone?" Logan took the offence.

"It's my place," Zack countered.

"As who?" Logan asked, his voice still level. "Their brother? I find it hard to believe that you think of all of your Manticore siblings as siblings."

"You know," Zack leapt up off the couch which he had flopped down on. "No one had ever quite pointed out to me how exactly any of this is your God damn business!"

"Max is a friend," Logan shrugged. "I care about what happens to her."

"You care about whether or not you can have her around a little longer to be your little plaything," Zack pointed accusingly. "I'm not blind, Cale! I've seen the way you look at her."

"And you know, no one had really pointed out to me how exactly that is any of your God damn business," Logan repeated Zack's previous remark. Zack was beyond angry, and for a moment Logan feared for his life. Zack's muscles tensed, and by some miracle he restrained himself.

Neither of them said anything more, but parted ways then. Zack walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the tea cups still sitting on Logan's end table. Shaking his head, Logan walked over to pick up the cold pieces of china. There was a small lip line on Max's, causing him to pause for a moment.

He looked back at the bathroom to make sure that no one was watching, then tilted the small china cup up to his own lips. It was as close as he would get to a goodbye kiss, if she did decide to leave. Somehow, he didn't believe that she would stay with Zack. No one could stay with a dick-shit like him too long, not even Max.

Smiling lightly to himself, her carried the cups to the kitchen and deposited them in his sink. He supposed it was the dream that had him in a cheery mood. If it was, he prayed he could dream about her every night for the rest of his life.

***

Max frowned deeply at Zack. She had arrived at Logan's early that morning, but she still wasn't positive whether she was going to leave. She hadn't talked to any of her friends, although she wasn't sure if that was such a bad thing. She didn't know if she could look Kendra or Original Cindy in the eye and tell them she was leaving.

She didn't want to leave. Though she wouldn't admit to it, she wanted _badly_ to stay.

"What do you mean you haven't decided yet?" Zack demanded for a second time.

"Exactly that, alright!" she fired back. "This is a big decision for me, Zack."

Logan was in the next room, she wished that she could see his face. Unfortunately, one of the things Manticore hadn't graced her with was x-ray vision. She could only guess what he was doing, only that he every once in a while would drop a pan.

"What the fuck are you doing in there, a pan inventory?" Zack demanded as another clattered to the floor.

"Sorry," came the muffled reply. Max supressed a smile. It was interesting to watch the two men interact. It was painfuly obvious that they didn't like one another. Logan seemed to delight in irritating Zack, who meanwhile appeared to have murderous intentions toward Logan. If they ever came to blows, Max was shocked to realize she knew who she would protect.

"Look," Zack turned his attention back to her, "I can't let you stay here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, becoming defencive. She'd had a rough night, and was feeling unusually testy. Between fending off doubts and haunting memories of the one time she'd kissed Logan, she'd been having a bad spell of seizures.

"I mean you're putting all of us in danger, Max," he replied sharply, his face close to hers. Even Max had to admit that he was an intimidating man. She didn't like being intimidated and rarely put up with it, but coming from Zack, she backed down.

"How?" she demanded, waving a hand in the air. "How am I putting everyone in danger?"

"If you get captured, Lydecker is one step closer to everyone," he bit out. "Not to mention, I'd have to haul ass back here to get you."

"I haven't gotten caught yet," she pointed out. Zack looked expecially exasperated by her comment.

"You've been around that ass-hole way to long, Max," he shook his head. She recognized the movement, he was attempting to reign in his tempor. She'd once looked up to Zack, he'd been her idol. Now as she looked into his hot, angry blue eyes she realized that he was imperfect. His faults were no small character flaws, his temper was short to the point of being explosive. But, all of that was forgivable because he was family, he was her brother.

"Don't call him that, Zack," she said softly, not wanting Logan to hear her defending him. The last thing she needed was to get tangled further in the web she had unknowingly created between them. She'd thought all night about where and when it could have possibly happened, when had she started liking him more than just a little. When had she become so hopelessly attatched.

Although she couldn't have been paid to admit anything out loud, she was rather fond of Logan. However, she wasn't well known for her aptitude in matters of the heart. She didn't want to fall all over him, get too involved, only for them to discover later on that neither could fufill what the other needed.

Zack needed nothing from her.

_That's the only reason you're even concidering going, coward._

"I'm not going to let you stay here," Zack shook his blonde head, his jaw firmly set. "You'd be handing yourself over to Lydecker to stay here."

_ I wonder if maybe he knows something about Lydecker that I don't..._

"You can't make me leave, Zack," Max set her jaw in the same stubborn way he did. Logan didn't set his jaw when he got upset and was being stubborn, he simply was. It was irritating, the way everything seemed to roll off of him like water. Yet, she admired it.

"Max, damn it...why can you just trust me on this?" Zack asked, his voice lowering.

"Give me one good reason why I should go with you, Zack," she crossed her arms. His eyes burned into hers.

"You want a reason?" he asked, throwing his arms up. "Okay, fine, I'll give you a reason. Beacause I love you. Okay!"

Max felt all the air rush out of her lungs. She gaped at him, her mouth hanging open. For a moment, she didn't know what to say. Zack stared at her, a gigantic raw nerve. She'd never dreamt he'd say what he'd just said, but he said it.

She tried to reply, choked, and tried again.

"Zack....I..." She was at a complete loss for words. He forked his fingers through his hair and lowered his eyes to the floor. Max' gaze was adverted from the top of his head for a moment when she sensed movement behind him. She caught a glimpse of Logan. The look on his face was...disturbed.

_Shit. Where to from here?_

Zack raised his head at the same time as Logan dissapeared from the doorway. She wanted to run after him, but Zack was in front of her. She was torn, but not as torn as she figured she should have been.

Zack had said the words, he'd thrown down the gauntlet. Could she walk away from this man, this man who loved her? She loved him back, with all of her heart, but not in the way she suspected he felt for her. She was backed against a wall, both metaphorically and physically.

She closed her eyes for a moment, needing a moment to think clearly. She and Logan played games with one another. She didn't really know how he felt about her. As for Zack, she knew exactly how he felt.

_ Logan will be better off without me. If Lydecker is really getting close, I can't put Logan in that kind of danger...I could never live with myself if he got hurt again because of me._

A strange feeling settled in the pit of her stomach that she was about to make a mistake. Then again, it wasn't like she couldn't come back. With Zack, who knew how many chances she would get. She opened her eyes and looked at him, and saw a glimmer of hope.

"Okay, Zack," she sighed. "When do you want to go?"   


~workin' on it~


	4. Part 4

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Angel...if I did, I wouldn't be sitting here writing fan fiction in my spare time.

A/N: This ones a little longer than the past three...hope you like it. Oh! And, I couldn't remember when I wrote it, but the little quote thingy Logan thinks of comes from Dragon Heart. And, my description of Gillette, just so you know, is right. Fox got it wrong...you wouldn't find ponds or trees anywhere near it. I've been there, middle of nowhere, reminds me of home :)

*I hope this comes out formatted okay, I'm using a diff. editor than I normally do!*

Wild is the Wind   
Part 4

Max was laying on a ratty, old bed thinking about her last moments in Logan's penthouse. She'd bid him goodbye in the most impersonal fashion she could bare. She'd told him she'd be in touch, and wasn't planning on staying gone. He'd taken it well, much too well for her liking. She'd imagined tears and professions of love. Of course, they hadn't come. Logan had wished her luck in finding her other siblings and given her a tight hug.

She'd been unwilling to break that hug, and in the dark, she imagined herself once again in his embrace. She could almost smell him, could almost feel the warmth of his body touching hers. Zack was nearby, and she tried to hold back the small groan that rose up in her throat. She missed him terribly, and she'd hadn't even been away for two full days.

She scooted closer to the wall, wanting to hide herself and her thoughts. She shook lightly with one of her now nightly seizures. She pinched her eyes closed, fear rising it's ugly head within her.

She dealt with it the way she usually did and brought forth a comforting image in her head. The one she came up with surprised her, but was highly effective. It was Logan, stretched out on top of her, his weight holding her down, suppressing her shaking. He was whispering about how he had missed her in her ear.

Max clung to the image, languishing in it. Zack and the beaten hotel room they were staying in bled away into the night until it was only her and Logan. She felt the tears coming down her cheeks, and her imaginary Logan wiped them away with his thumbs.

"Don't cry," he murmured to her.

_Oh, God, I miss him._

Rolling over on the bed, she sought out the clock on the VCR with her eyes. It was past midnight, she wondered distantly if he would be awake, or if he would get up to answer the phone if he was asleep.

She reached for her jacket, her hand still shaking. Across the room, she heard Zack sigh and roll over, his heavy body making the springs of his bed creak. They hadn't stopped to rest since leaving Seattle. Max herself was exhausted, but sleep was second on her list of things to do. She and Logan had been a team for a long time, maintaining contact with him was something she'd become accustomed to doing.   
  
The hazy image of Logan still floating through her head, she walked silently through the darkness to the door. With her sensitive ears she could hear Zack breathing and the slight rattle in his chest when he exhaled. His lungs pumped the air in, out, and in again in a steady rhythm. She focused on the sound as she silently turned the doorknob and escaped out into the night.

The crisp, damp spring night was in stark contrast to the hot, muggy hotel room. The foggy impression of Logan which seemed to be following her crystallized when she closed her eyes. A shiver ran up the length of her spine, although she wasn't sure if it was a reaction to the chill in the air or the painfully clear image of Logan that seemed to be wrapped around her.   
  
_Better off not knowing.___

Pushing her hands into her pockets, she started down the sidewalk toward a payphone which she had noticed on her way to the room. The gentle breeze lifted her hair away from the back of her neck, which was sticky with sweat. Self-consciously, she reached back to settle her hair under the collar of her jacket.

As she neared the payphone, she searched through her pants pocket for change. She didn't think Logan would mind her calling collect, it wasn't like he didn't have the money, but she still preferred paying for the call herself.  Her fingers connected with a quarter and she pulled it out triumphantly.

Smiling to herself, she picked up the receiver and dropped the coin into the slot. The light clicking that followed reverberated through the phone and she hastily dialed Logan's number. There was a short pause, followed by two low rings. On the third, he answered, his voice sounding groggy.

"Hello?" he asked, followed by a yawn.

"Hey there, did I wake you?" Max asked.

"Max! No, not at all...how are you?" he sounded eager to talk to her. His voice easily conveyed his emotions, but she was having trouble translating them over the poor quality phone.

_ Maybe he does miss me...or maybe this shitty receiver's playing with my head._

"I'm okay," she replied. "We've been traveling pretty hard these last two days, finally stopped off for a break. How's everyone?"

"Kendra's understandably upset," Logan answered, the damn phone making his voice sound as if he was frowning. "I've managed to convince Normal not to fire you, although Cindy and Sketchy had already been covering for you. Some of the things they came up with were..."

"Out there?" Max supplied.

"Yeah," Logan laughed. "If you'd like, I could pass on a message to them from you."

"No, that's okay," Max sighed. She didn't have anything to say to them, how could she explain that she had run off with a man who none of them even knew because another man was trying to kill her. Or, even less likely for her to try and explain, that she had to leave or become so entangled with Logan that she'd never be able to walk away from him. Something they'd both eventually see as a mistake.

"Zack was right, Lydecker's been on the prowl here," Logan announced. "I don't know what he's up to yet, but I'm working on it."

"What's he been doing?" Max asked, curious.

"Nothing too direct yet," Logan replied. "But he's definitely narrowing in his search. If he gets too close to your apartment I'm going to pull Kendra out."

"What a mess," Max groaned. She felt responsible and didn't want any of her friends to get hurt because of her. She also felt guilty for running, she'd only run from one thing in entire life: Manticore. He record, however, was broken. She was running from everything, from the way she felt and the things she didn't want to face. The guilt of that realization hit her with unimaginable power.

"Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it," Logan insisted, his voice calming. "Eyes Only, right? It's my job."

"Thanks, Logan," she clutched the phone tightly with her hand, making her knuckles turn white. "How are you doing? Inviting Bling over for dinner every night so you have someone to brag to yet about your special little skill?"

"Nah, I only invite him over every other night," Logan chuckled. "He claims that he has 'other obligations.'"

"Imagine that," Max shook her head and leaned against the wall, "something else takes precedence above Logan...wonder what it could be."

"Yeah, that's what I've been wondering," Logan replied, his voice animated. He laughed then, the sound much too appealing.

"Maybe Bling's got himself a lady friend," Max suggested.

"Maybe," Logan agreed, then paused. "Where's Zack?"

"Sleeping back in the hotel room," Max answered, the sound of his breathing coming back to her. Oddly, the steady in and out wasn't what came to her. Instead, the gentle rattle when he exhaled reverberated in her head.

_ Strange...Zack couldn't possibly be sick. Maybe he snores._

"You're not tired?" Logan asked. "Are you okay? No seizures or anything keeping you from sleeping?"

"I'm fine," Max lied. "Just not tired." Seizures weren't the only thing keeping her up. She couldn't even hope to sleep when every time she rolled over she imagined he would be there waiting to hold her. Her unruly imagination was beginning to get on her nerves.

"I'm glad." His reply sounded genuine, but with the shitty phone she was talking on, she couldn't possibly be an accurate judge of how he sounded. Not that she hadn't spent enough time studying his voice. When he spoke, no matter what he said, it seemed genuine. She could sit and listen to him talk all night, soothed by the magical sound he was so easily able to create and manipulate.

"I'd better split," Max announced. "I'll talk to you later."

"Alright, it was good to hear from you," Logan replied. "Take care, Max."

"I'll be fine, later." She hung up the phone, resisting the urge to wait and listen to see if he would hang up first. She was close enough to desperation and didn't want to come any closer to the line.

"Who were you talking to?" Zack asked out of the shadows. His long, muscular body leaned lazily against the side of the building, his expression unreadable. Max wasn't overly surprised that he had been listening. The only emotion that his invasion of her privacy evoked was anger.

"Actually, I thought I'd just call Lydecker and gossip for a while," she replied, crossing her arms. "None of your business."

"No need to get snippy, Max," Zack smiled, a thready muscle in his jaw tightening. Even through the smile, Max could tell that he was upset.

"Do you and Logan have some kind of testosterone thing going, or what?" she demanded.

"Not considering only one of us has any," Zack retorted, rolling his eyes. "I don't know why you hung around that guy. He's the biggest sissy bastard I've ever met."

"He's not the one running from his problems," Max pointed out, knowing the comment applied to herself as well.

"That's another thing that bothers me," Zack breathed out heavily. "You always stand up for him...which was important I guess back when he _couldn't_ stand. Do me a favor and lay off now that he can."

"Why do you hate him so much?" Max asked, genuinely interested in the answer.

"Because he keeps taking you away from me," Zack answered feverishly, his skin turning a ruddy color as his blood rushed to the surface in a hot blush. Max had never seen Zack blush, indeed had never even dreamed that he possessed the emotional sense of mind to mutter the things he was saying.

He reached for her then, his skin hot. She tensed when he touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers. His eyes peered at her with unhidden lust. The magnitude of his feelings for her surprised Max. She hadn't anticipated that he felt as strongly for her as she did for....Logan.

Feeling a little sick, and even more confused, she stepped away from him.

"Please...don't," she begged. Zack's hand dropped to his side lifelessly. The fire in his eyes died and rekindled in another form. This time it wasn't lust, it was anger, the tightly leashed demon which Zack hid so carefully inside of him.

"Get some sleep, Max," he bit out, his patience obviously wearing thin. "I'm going to get some towels so I can shower."

She noticed as he walked away, a pile of raw nerve and muscle, that he hadn't offered to get her towels. Logan would have offered, he would have sewn her a towel from the clothes off his back if she asked him to.

_ Damn it, why does everything come back to him with me? I don't need any towels anyway, if Zack wants me to smell like a rank old dog I might as well give him what he wants._

Disturbed by her thoughts, but thinking that smelling bad wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing if it kept him far enough away from her that she didn't feel the need to fend him off, she walked back to their room.

***

Logan sat listening to the dead phone. The sound reverberated through his ears for long moments before he hesitantly hung it up. She'd been gone two days, two of the longest, most hellish days of his life. His normally genial mood had been offset by her departure. He'd taken on the same basic attitude toward life that he suspected a highly pissed off wolverine might have.

Knowing he wouldn't fall asleep again, he levered himself out of bed. He flinched when he feet connected with the cold hard wood floor that ran through his home. Walking to his kitchen, he sought out the refrigerator. Inside was something he'd been saving for a special occasion, one which was destined never to come.

He lowered himself down into a chair, the bottle of highly expensive, highly rare wine in his hand. Sadly, he looked at it, seeing the distorted image of himself reflected off its curved glass. He didn't have his glasses on, and the image was blurry, but he could still see the pain in his expression.

He wanted to hate Zack for taking her away, but he couldn't hate the man for being in love with her and having enough guts to say so. Logan himself had never said the words. He liked to think that he _showed_ her how he cared by always being there, ready to come at her beckoning. For the first time, he wondered if he'd just been rationalizing his own cowardess.

He reached to rip the mesh from the top of the bottle, but found he couldn't perform the task.

_ Dreams die hard, and you hold them in your hand long after they turn to dust._

Where had he heard that before? He couldn't remember. He'd been exposed to too many books, films, and songs to remember where the few lines he remembered from them came from.

He held his dreams until they rolled over and died. He had a problem with getting too involved, throwing himself into something and then not being able to pull himself out. Eyes Only, Max...just a few examples of his biggest character flaw. He couldn't let go, couldn't walk away.

Allowing his fingers to release the bottle, he allowed the dull clank of the glass on the table to echo in his empty home. Amazingly, it didn't break, but landed upright with only a thud, no satisfying shattering. He promised himself he'd break it before the week was through, knowing all the while it would probably only result in his getting hit by flying glass. Logan's luck appeared to be worn thin.

"Maybe I should consider getting a cat," he murmered to himself as he leaned back in his chair, stretching his various appendages. His arms slung over the back of the chair, he looked down at his feet and wiggled his toes.

_ And I'll name it Angel...or maybe Max._

The cat would probably end up being just like her: beautiful, sleek, and wild. It would drop by from time to time to have a snack and go about its cat business. He laughed lightly to himself, thinking he'd probably love it too.

***

Lydecker sat in a plush chair, picking dirt out from under his fingernails with a pocket knife. His mind wasn't in the task, it was back at Manticore, sipping coffee and waiting the young trainee children. They'd had so much potential, but they'd blown it. He hadn't seen the breakout coming. They'd just been kids, who'd known they were capable of escaping from a top secret military compound.

His clenched his hand into a tight fist and stared down at it. A few white colored scars ran across his fingers from past altercations. Lydecker didn't consider himself an overly violent man, but he did derive a certain joy out of the pain of others. His own pain he wasn't quite so fond of. The scar was old, much older than Manticore, and he'd been very young.

His father had been a large man, over six feet and far above two hundred pounds. He didn't openly beat his son, but Lydecker's childhood had been less than ideal. He had similar scars on his upper arms and across his back. He'd never participated in the same father-son activities that all the other boys he knew did. They went fishing, hunting, and hiking through the Wyoming stretch of the Rocky Mountains. He'd never been fond of the mountains, which was why he'd chose Gillette, Wyoming for the location of Manticore. Located in the the middle of nowhere and a right from hell, the place was surrounded for miles on all sides by nothing but grass. 

It had been a place that reminded him of his father, of the things that had happened to him, and it strengthened his resolve. 

He'd been just a boy, only six years old. Even then, he hadn't been innocent. He liked to see fear in the eyes of another creature, to know that he was in control. On the open range Wyoming ranch his father owned, he'd had plenty of time to find small animals to entertain himself. However, when he moved up and bothered his father's cattle, it had been the last straw.

His father had stepped out of their rickety ranch house and saw him in the pen with the cows, who were letting out wailing bellows. Range firing through his father's cold blue eyes, Lydecker cowered into a corner, his hands covering his head.

He'd been bound in barbed wire and left in the pen with the cows until he worked his own way free. He'd never let his father, or anyone else control him again. He wasn't a docile man, he dominated and destroyed. The scars where the wire had bit into his fingers as he worked his way free from his father's searing trap were a constant reminder of the inherent danger in being anything but the alpha-male.

He traced the scar with his dull pocket knife, his mind occupied.

"Sir." A man's head peeked into the room. He was young, still in his twenties. His raven black hair was tamed with gel and a slick comb job. Behind his wire rimmed glasses, his whisky colored eyes showed that he not only respected his boss, but feared him.

"What is it?" Lydecker asked.

"We've had contact, Sir," the young man replied.

"Did you get confirmation on the voice?" Lydecker inquired, tossing the horribly dull knife into a garbage can a few feet away.

"We did, Sir," he nodded.

"Well then," Lydecker pulled his tired body up out of the comfortable chair. "Let's go pay our new friend a visit."

  
  



	5. Part 5

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Angel

A/N: Oh my God...my computer crashed and I lost half of this! I seriously almost had a heart attack, but thankfully my computer saved me by creating a rescued file of it! I'm still recovering...geeze...

Wild is the Wind

Zack looked ahead of him at Max, who was leaning low on her black ninja. The movement pulled her jacket up, revealing the crux of her back. He tried not to think about what else was hidden beneath the black leather. He'd been getting himself in enough trouble with the woman, he didn't need to compound things further by doing something heady and stupid. God knew he wanted to, but he restrained himself.

She swerved around a corner, disappearing momentarily beyond the thick pine trees. They'd entered Montana the previous night and stayed in a hotel in a tiny hole of a town. He'd almost missed the place all together, had it not been for the lights on the hotel's neon sign he would have gone through without realizing he'd passed civilization. There was something about the city that Zack disliked, although he wasn't sure if it was the people or the danger he felt from them.

With the sun beating down on his back and the fragrant scent of pine in the air, he felt free. Even Max's mood had seen a remarkable improvement. She swerved playfully back and forth across the narrow abandoned road in front of him. The road -- which had previously lead to some national park or monument, he wasn't sure which -- hadn't been used very much since the pulse.

After escaping from Manticore, Zack had fled due north, through the town of Weston, Wyoming and finally across the Montana Wyoming boarder. He'd spent less than a week in south east Montana. The land was dry, flat, and ugly. It reminded him painfully of Gillette. He'd moved further west after that, not having the presence of mind to attempt crossing the national boarder to go into Canada.

He was taken in by a fairly affluent, but childless, family in Columbia Falls. The city was small, but a marked difference from Gillette. Tucked away in the Rockies, Columbia Falls was surrounded by forests and rivers. He'd spent two years of his life there before fearing he would become too attached. After all, he wasn't a normal child. As soon as he was old enough, he fled into Canada where he settled down in British Columbia.

His time as a Canadian was as limited as his time as a Montanan had been. Zack wasn't the kind of man who could settle down, he was constantly on the move. He found himself peering over his shoulder every few steps, haunted by memories of being chained under water, of being trained to kill without remorse. He was painfully aware of the fact that he could never blend in, that he still thought like a highly efficient killing machine.

However, on the back Montana road with Max -- his delightful Max -- only feet away, Zack felt happy. It was a strange thing, happiness. There was little reason for him to be pleased, knowing what he knew, but he was.

He watched as Max's dark curly hair flew out behind her, exposing her bar code to his view. He'd quit getting his removed and had opted for growing his hair out enough so that it covered the mark. He hated having it, feeling almost as if he was made dirty with sin from it. Having had a dark life, Zack had read all the blackest classics. Among his favorites was Bram Stoker's _Dracula_. He knew how poor Mina Murray had felt when she'd stared at herself in the mirror and yelled, "Unclean!" He'd shut his eyes many times only to think the same thing.

The only difference between himself and Mina was that Mina's darkness had been seduced out of her; Zack's had been manufactured.

Speeding up, and shrugging off his thoughts, Zack came up even with Max. His blonde hair hung in his eyes, longer than he preferred to wear it. He'd handed himself over to Lydecker once for her, even though he'd spoken more than once about "phony sentimentality." Sentiments suddenly weren't so phony to him, and in that moment he would have dropped himself into the hands of the devil himself to get a bright, loving smile from her.

He didn't receive one.

"When're we going to stop again?" she asked instead.

"Unless you want to camp out, not soon," he replied.

"Well...how long until the next town?" she inquired, biting one of her full lips. Zack tried not to stare.

"You don't want to know," he replied. In truth, he wasn't sure how far away the next town would be. They were avoiding the large cities, mainly staying on their outskirts when they passed. It wasn't so much a tactical decision as a personal one. Gossip tended to spread in small towns like wildfire. When a stranger showed up, every person generally knew about it five minutes later. However, Zack didn't like being surrounded by people, any of whom could stab him in the back at any moment, and preferred to have his space. 

"Great..." Max's voice trailed off uncharacteristly. "Nice little road though."

"Not in a Seattle slum, but it's not bad," Zack replied sarcastically. The look Max tossed him was biting. Guilt settled into the pit of his stomach. He hadn't told her the whole truth when he'd come to get her.

_ She'll find out eventually, clear the air now._

He took a deep breath, resolving to tell her at their next stop. As he exhaled, he was aware of a vibration in his chest, one that wasn't going to go away. He hadn't been able to get away from Lydecker without injury to himself, and the sound was his constant reminder of the chance he had taken for the woman he loved.

_ Cale can go fuck himself. This girl is mine..._

The thought was remarkably possessive and he dismissed it shortly after thinking it. He didn't actually _want_ Logan to get hurt, he just wanted him out of the way. If he got hurt somehow in the process, well, that was bonus. Zack was used to fending for himself, and the pain of others didn't bother him as much as he tended to think it should have.

Guilt permeating his body, he lowered his head, focusing his eyes strait forward. He had to tell her, before it ate him up inside...

***

Logan was dimly aware of a throbbing pain in his head.

_ What the hell...?_

Foggy minded, he dared to open his eyes, blinking to bring the world around him into focus. He was mildly surprised when the images before his eyes refused to become clear. He closed his eyes again, blocking out the cold, gray color of his surroundings and becoming absorbed once again within his own body. He was unsure for the next moments if he lost consciousness, or merely fell so deeply into his own thought process that the passage of time became irrelevant.

When he opened his eyes again, he was aware of the fact that he was cold. A marked improvement from before, he even had the sense to figure out that his glasses were gone. A little irritated, but not overly alarmed, he reached up to rub his eyes.

His hand didn't arrive.

He tried again, and once again he failed.

Confused, he rolled onto his back, and felt his hands under him. His mind was treacherously hazy, and he was having a difficult time concentrating on the problem. He made an attempt to sit up, only to have pain fire through his head. It spread hotly to the rest of his body, enveloping him until he fell back to the cold floor.

_ Max..._

She swam before his eyes before he lost consciousness again.

***

Squinting against the bright sunlight, Max read the sign for the restaurant she and Zack were entering. In black block letters that looked like they would crumble with one touch were the words, "Welcome to Whitefish!" She looked around her at the town and doubted that the phrase was uttered often. The small town had been broken more than Seattle, if that was possible. She found herself wondering what it was like before the pulse.

Zack was in an odd mood. As she walked behind him, faced only with the wide expanse of his back and shoulders, she tried to unravel what he was thinking. She'd known him long enough to understand the majority of the time what he was feeling. However, she was at a loss to figure out the strange vibes she continued to get from him. She was aware that Zack had spent some of his time after escaping from Manticore in the general area they were in. She wondered if, perhaps, he was more one for sentiments than he claimed to be.

She took note of the payphone outside the door as they walked into the dimly lit establishment. The air inside was smoky and filled with the low murmurs of three men who sat at the bar. They each had large, frothy beers in their hands, which were grimy.

Max tried to hide her distaste as she and Zack made their way up the bar. The barkeep gave Zack a passing look, and his eyes landed squarely on Max.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"How much to get something to eat?" Zack inquired, stepping in front of Max. For once, she was thankful for the offensive position he put up.

"Depends," the barkeep shrugged his thin shoulders. "What're you lookin' for?"

"Anything, what've you got?" Zack shot the three men at the bar a quick glance. All three were relatively small and frail looking. Max looked at them as Zack listened to the barman give him an oral menu.

Two of the men had silvery white hair. The other man's hair was a dingy black. They all had the look of defeat in their tired old eyes. They were broken, pulled under the depression and beaten by it. None of them had spoken since her and Zack's arrival, but their gazes were riveted by the couple.

"What's the meat in the burgers?" Zack asked, reaching into his pocket.

"Some's cow," the other man shrugged. "Some's venison....some's buffalo. Can't tell the difference on the bison, cheaper for me to sell the local kill if ya know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Zack replied. "Give us whatever's best." He dropped a few dollars onto the dirty bar, drawing every eye in the establishment.

"Sure thing," the tiny man flashed Zack a toothy grin and pocketed the money. "Suzi, Jack...fire up the grill!" He paused before disappearing into the back. "Since you're payin' for the best and all, I suppose you can eat on the patio."

"Patio?" Max asked in disbelief.

"Around back," was all he said before leaving. Zack turned around and with a slight shrug directed Max back out the door.

"Actually, if you want to go on ahead," Max hesitated, seeing a sign that clearly said _Ladies_ on a door. "I've got to go to the bathroom. I'll be out in a minute."

Zack looked down at her, then nodded.

"Make it quick," he replied and, casting the three men at the bar a warning look, walked out the door. Max, for the sake of her lie, turned and walked into the ladies room. The inside was surprisingly clean. She guessed not many ladies regularly used it, and, since she finally had the chance to use a clean bathroom, she took the moment.

Feeling remarkably better, she went through the restaurant again and made a bee-line for the phone once she got outside. She quickly dropped change into the slot and dialed. Tapping her foot impatiently, she waited, listening to the phone ring.

Finally, someone picked up.

"Logan, it's Max -" she started, but was interrupted.

"No one's around, leave a message," Logan's voice announced and was followed by a beep. Disheartened, she considered leaving a message.

"Hey, Logan," she said somewhat hesitantly into the phone. "Just callin' to say hey, guess I missed you. Talk to you later."

Frowning, she hung up. A little disturbed, she walked through the lush emerald grass around the building. In the back, there was indeed a patio. Zack was sitting at a table waiting for her, drumming his fingers against it's wooden surface. As she walked up to join him, his eyes visibly lit up.

"How was it?" he asked.

"Clean," Max laughed.

He smiled and took a long drink of a glass of water sitting in the middle of the table. She liked it when he smiled, and he so rarely did. Zack was serious about almost everything. She'd wondered more than once how he could be so intense and not have had some kind of major coronary event from the stress of it.

"Would you care for a drink?" the barkeep breezily rushed up to Max.

"What've you got?" she asked.

"We have a nice wine I'm sure you'd love," he replied. Max politely declined, having become used to the expensive wine and Champaign Logan always seemed to have in stock, she doubted she could swallow the man's wine with a strait face.

"How about milk?" she asked. Zack looked over the rim of his glass at her, his eyes questioning.

"We've got plenty of that," he said proudly, and returned in moments with a tall, frosty glass.

"Are you having problems?" Zack asked, nodding toward the white liquid.

"No," Max lied and took a long drink. Zack gave her a long, uncertain look, but was distracted by the barkeep bringing their meal. It was somewhat comical to Max the way he waited on them. In all seriousness, the barman was treating them to the best service he could possibly provide, but compared to the rich lifestyle Max had been exposed to his attempt seemed childish and cheap. It was, however, all he had, and Max didn't hold that against him.

"Fresh venison," he said, setting down a plate in front of Max. It was chipped, but the food smelled delicious. She found herself wondering as she ate how Logan would have reacted to the place.

_ He probably would give this guy enough money to buy his meat rather than hunt it._

She was still slightly upset that she hadn't been able to get a hold of him. Her mind occupied, she didn't notice when Zack finished off his meal.

"Are you almost done?" he asked.

"Um...yeah...almost," she answered, looking down at her nearly empty plate. She hadn't been aware of eating most of it, but quickly finished off the rest.

"Good, because we've got to get moving," Zack announced and stood up. Max stood up at the same time.

"Where to from here?" she asked.

"Further east," Zack replied. "We have quite a way to go yet before we get to the main road going into Canada."

"Are we going to stop again soon?" she asked, wanting more than anything to try calling Logan again. He was always home, she was more than curious to know where he was. All of the possible scenarios had passed through her mind, the most infuriorating of which was that he'd met another woman.

"No, why?" Zack asked, he dropped a tip onto the table absently and started walking back around the building to where they were parked.

"I'm tired," Max lied. Remotely, she realized that she'd been doing a lot of fibbing since she'd left Seattle.

"We just rested last night," he replied, coming to an abrupt stop. "I wasn't planning on stopping again until we entered Canada."

Max searched her mind for a reason she would need more rest, and found one.

"Before...when you asked me if I was having problems," she said, trying to sound as tired and pathetic as she could. "I lied...my seizures have been pretty bad lately."

"Have you been taking your pills?" he asked. The question made her angry.

"Of course I have been!" she shot back. "What, do you think I'm an idiot?"

"No...just making sure," he shrugged. "I guess we can find someplace to stay here for the night."

Smiling to herself, Max followed behind Zack on her motorcycle as they traversed the town, looking for a hotel. The one they found was a step up from the one they'd stayed in the night before. The person at the front desk was a short, cherubic man named Jim. He wore thick glasses similar to the ones Normal wore, creating an odd pain in Max's heart. She hadn't realized she would miss her life as much as she did.

"Got hot water?" Max asked when Jim showed them to their room.

"Plenty," Jim nodded. "Towels are beneath the sink."

Max shot Zack an accusing look. She was still a little sore that he'd showered at their last stop but had insisted on leaving before she got the chance. Under her hot glare he looked like he wanted to crawl into his proverbial shell.

"I'm going to shower," Max informed him when Jim left to reclaim his place being the front desk.

"Okay," he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm going to see if I can find any place here where we can get Tryptophan. If I can't find any, I'll head to the town fifteen miles south of here."

He was obviously trying to make up for the towel situation, and Max welcomed it.

"Alright, whatever..." she replied dismissively and closed the bathroom door on him. Her sensitive hearing picked up the sounds of his departure before she turned on the water. Satisfied that she was alone, she undressed and stepped under the hot spray. The warm water felt good on her skin and she shivered with pleasure.

As she poured shampoo in her hand, she found herself thinking about Logan. He was the topic that everything inevitably led to since she'd left. Shrugging, she allowed herself to take the thought wherever her mind wanted.

She reflected on the way he always had an intelligent comeback to her smart remarks, the way he always seemed to know the perfect way to breach her every defense. At first, she'd been annoyed, but as she suddenly found herself without him around to keep her on her toes, she found that his most annoying characteristics were actually some of his best.

_ Helps that he's so cute...and sweet...and perfect..._

She sighed, wanting to be with him. Rinsing the shampoo from her hair, she tilted her head back and allowed herself to imagine how things could be. She envisioned him and her somewhere far away from Seattle. Somewhere that no one could get to them, alone, in each others' arms...and happy. So incredibly happy.

Feeling open to new ideas, she imagined her life with Zack. Assuming she could get over feeling only sisterly toward him, she could only see a life of running with him. There would be no settling down with Zack.

_ Do I want to settle down?_

Max had never imagined herself as the married kind. Logan, however, made her seriously consider it. Not that she intended to walk down the isle with the man any time in the near future, but she had to face the fact that she definitely wanted to be with him, in one sense or another. If her trip with Zack had proven one thing to her, it was that Logan wasn't going to stop haunting her just because she couldn't see him. 

Deciding that when she got back, if she ever indeed did get back, she would start following the somewhat nebulous directions of her heart. Of course, that decision was easier made when she was hundreds of miles away from Seattle and able to forget the rift that existed between herself and Logan. 

Turning off the water, she stepped out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy white towel around her middle. Humming softly to herself, she ran a comb through her wet hair. Eager to find a phone before Zack returned, Max rushed to get dressed, pulling on a pair of cut off jean shorts and a black tank top. Her heart thudding, she turned off the bathroom light and deposited her wet towel on Zack's bed before jogging out the door. 

She walked to the front desk, where Jim sat reading a newspaper. Max walked up to him and pushed it down with one hand. 

"Do you have a phone?" she asked. 

"Yeah," he replied, pulling his newspaper out of her grasp. "Do you need to use it?" 

"I'm not just asking because I'm curious," she replied. Jim blushed a little and handed her a receiver. 

Max reached over the counter and started to dial, then glanced up at him. 

"A little privacy?" she asked. 

"Oh...right, sorry!" Jim scuttled away, waddling a bit. Max wondered if Zack had said something to him, or if her shower had restored her more dominating nature. Not really caring, she finished dialing Logan's number and waited impatiently for him to pick up. 

"No one's around, leave a message." 

She slammed down the phone, upset. 

_Damnit, where the hell is he? _

She leaned against the counter and steamed for a moment. _ _

_Logan's never gone all day long. It would just figure if he was ignoring my calls! The bastard's probably sitting there by the phone laughing his sexy little ass off! _

Something occurred to her then. Logan was never gone all day, something had to be wrong. The idea un-nerved her. Frowning unhappily, and a little panicked, she walked back to her hotel room. Zack was picking her still wet towel off his now soaked bed with distaste when she arrived. 

"Where've you been?" he asked, tossing the towel onto the floor. 

"Trying to call Logan," she replied truthfully. 

"Why?" he asked, a scowl marking his dislike for Logan. 

"I'm worried about him," Max announced, angry. "I haven't been able to get a hold of him, I think something's wrong." 

"I'm sure he's fine," Zack said blandly. "He's got the luck of a fucking..." He searched for a metaphor and apparently didn't find one because he let the thought hang. 

Max flopped down on her bed, biting her lip with worry. She would never be able to forgive herself if Logan got hurt, not when she could have been there to protect him. Pushing her fingers through her hair, she rested her chin in her hand. 

Zack glanced back at her, his muscles tense. He started to walk toward her, then hesitated and cussed savagely under his breath. 

"Alright, shit...there's something I need to tell you, Max," he announced. 

She looked up at him, knowing she wasn't going to like what she was about to hear. Zack looked tense and knelt down in front of her. 

"When I came to get you..." he started, then paused as if he were going to stop. 

"Keep going," Max demanded, a brutal anger rising in her chest. Zack lowered his head, humbling himself to her. 

"I didn't exactly tell you the whole truth," he announced. "Lydecker was getting close to you...he found out you were doing a lot of the footwork for Eyes Only." 

Max felt her stomach drop to her feet, and for a moment she thought she was going to vomit. 

"He was too close, I couldn't let him get you," Zack said in a rush, grabbing her hands. 

She jerked hers away and stood up. 

"God damn it, Zack! What the fuck were you thinking? If he's hurt, I will never forgive you!" she yelled furiously, rushing to get her things together so she could leave. Zack didn't reply, but sat on his knees rubbing his eyes wearily. 

"He's probably just not answering the phone," he finally said. "Lydecker hadn't figure out yet if Logan was really Eyes Only and whether or not you were actually the one doing the footwork." 

Max spun on her heel and pointed at him accusingly. 

"It doesn't matter, Zack!" she replied. "You should have told me!" 

Max got all of her things together and sprinted out into the falling night. Zack wasn't far behind her as she got onto her ninja. She swallowed down her fear that she would arrive back in Seattle to find Logan dead. She'd never been so frightened in her life, and that alone heightened her panic. 

_Please Logan...be okay! I'm coming...__ _


	6. Part 6

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I don't own DA

A/N: Being the stickler for realism that I am, I preformed a little experiment to write this part and actually had my brother tie me up and set my reading glasses across the room!! Boy I tell yah, give it a try, it is NOT easy to get them on without using your hands! So, Logan does it the same way I did...uh, excluding having someone standing across the room laughing, my bro seemed to find the whole thing hilarious :-) 

Oh yeah...sorry for the wait, I hit major big time writer's block!!

Wild is the Wind

Logan awoke to the taste of blood in his mouth. Choking, he spit the hot, sour liquid out onto the floor rolled painfully onto his stomach. Feeling sick, he rested his burning forehead against the cool cement floor.

After a few, long moments he opened his eyes to survey his blurry surroundings. His eye sight wasn't horrible, and he could make out the basic shape of the barren room. The walls were bare and made of gray cement. There was one window where a dirty stream of sunlight splashed into the dismal room.

Sighing, he turned his attention inward. He knew that he was hurt, but he wasn't positive how badly. There was a dull ache at the back of his head and blood was running from either his nose or the side of his mouth onto his lips. Feeling groggy and exhausted he gingerly laid his head against the floor, only too aware that it was resting in pool of blood.

He was relieved to find that the pool wasn't large, which meant he wasn't bleeding profusely. The still warm, thick liquid clung to his hair like molasses when he lifted his head again. He arched his back, allowing him to turn and see his hands and feet. He discovered that he'd been hand-cuffed and his feet were bound together by white plastic zip ties.

_ Where the hell am I?_

Unable to remember how he had ended up in such a situation, he found himself wondering if he was better off not knowing.

Anxiety beginning to rise quickly in his chest, he cast his gaze around the room. A glint across the room caught his eye. Figuring that the only thing it could possibly be was his lost glasses, he wiggled worm style across the floor. The going was slow and it took him a good fifteen exhausting minutes to navigate his way to the reflective object.

Releasing a sigh of relief when he finally reached it, he was then faced with the problem of getting them on without any hands. Grunting with irritation, he attempted to tip them with his mouth so that the lenses faced the ground. Stretching, he managed to grab them with his teeth. Carefully, slowly, he twisted his head to lever them into a standing position.

"Shit," he cussed savagely to himself when he managed to get them standing only to have them fall over. Becoming frustrated, he shifted his weight, rolling into a different position. This time, he easily was able to grip them between his teeth. Grunting slightly, he set them back on the floor. Finally getting them to balance, he lowered his head and attempted to hook them behind his ears.

He listened intently to the sound of his own breathing as he tilted his head.

"Oh...there...okay..." he muttered to himself, lifting his head to flip the glasses onto his nose. His attempt failed, only resulting in them clattering back to the floor.

Groaning with the failure, he wiggled into a new position to try again. Now having perfected the act of balancing his glasses on the lenses, it took him only moments to get them standing again. This time, however, he lowered his head until his chin touched his chest to hook them onto his ears. When he lifted his head, his glasses were balancing on the end of his nose.

"Okay...alright, got them there...now I just have to push them on." He looked around the room and, seeing nothing that could help him, he wiggled over to a corner. Breathing heavy now from the effort of moving across the room on his belly, he pushed his face into the corner, the frame of his glasses catching as the two walls came together and coming up the bridge of his nose.

The triumph was small, but significant. Logan rolled off his stomach, propping himself up in the corner to get a better view of the room now that he could see. Matters only became more bleak when his gaze came to rest on the dark, almost black trail of blood he'd left behind him.

"Oh God...this isn't good," he groaned, then -- thinking of Max -- amended his statement. "At least she'll be safe for once."

***

Max stormed into the Kalispell airport. The facility hummed with the voices of less than twenty people, one of which belonging to a woman with short black hair who sat behind the desk filing her nails. She looked up in time to meet Max's heated glare moments before she and the sheepish Zack arrived at the desk.

"I need to get to Seattle," Max announced in a voice that broached no argument.

"Our next flight to Seattle doesn't leave until tomorrow morning," the woman informed her. Max leaned across the counter.

"Apparently you don't understand," she hissed. "I _need_ to get to Seattle, now!"

The other woman looked at Max for a moment, then shifted her gaze to Zack who had his eyes cast down onto the floor.

"I suppose it would be possible to get a small passenger plane to take you," she finally replied.

"Well, Kim," Max said, looking down at the dark haired woman's name tag, "you'd better find out real quick."

Kim narrowed her crystal blue eyes at Max, not hiding her apparent irritation.

"I'll get right on that, Ma'am," she smiled in an overly sweet fashion and picked up the receiver to a phone sitting on the other side of the desk. As she dialed, she sent Zack a charming grin, ignoring the highly on-edge Max. "Hey, John," she said into the phone. "This is Kim, I don't suppose you'd be willing to make a run to Seattle tonight?"

Max began to pace nervously, imagining Logan in every kind of pain she could fathom. She didn't put even the most obscure forms of torture past Lydecker. If she was positive of one thing, it was that Logan's death would be drawn out and painful. There would be no mercy shot to the head for him. He would drown in his own blood before Lydecker would allow him that.

"Yeah, I know," Kim said into the phone. "I tried to tell them that...apparently it's some kind of emergency....yeah....I know....well, maybe..."

The sound of the woman's voice was drowned out by the roar of Max's own heartbeat. She was shaking violently, but not due to low levels of serration. She rarely lost control, but as she stood thinking about him, she felt the tattered thread of it she held so tightly begin to slowly slip away.

She became remotely aware of Zack standing beside her as the heat radiating from his body permeated her cool flesh. The conflicting urges to go toward and away from the heat struggled within her for long moments before she turned her gaze to him.

"Why did you do it, Zack?" she asked, her voice breaking with emotion. "Why did you lie to me?"

His eyes broke quickly with hers.

"I didn't want you to be with him," he replied, his voice betrayed the fragile state of his emotions. "It's no fucking fair, Max. We've known each other our entire lives and you care less about me than that little shit-head. I did it for you."

"For me?" she settled her hands resolutely on her hips. "Zack...you're my brother. Blood is thicker than water, and even this I might one day come to forgive you for, but damn it! How could you not warn Logan?"

He didn't reply, but forked his fingers through his disheveled hair.

"Do you love him?" he finally asked.

"What?" Max asked, not believing what she was hearing.

"Damn it...don't fuck with me, Max," he turned to look at her. "No more of this coy shit, now tell me, do you love him?"

The question seared her.

"What the hell kind of question is that?" she demanded, deciding her best bet would be to become the aggressor. Zack, however, was well versed on her ways of avoiding the issue.

"Yes or no."

Heatedly, she called him every awful name that came to mind. When she'd finally exhausted her vocabulary bank of swear words and disgusting objects she took a deep breath, only to find him still waiting for her answer.

The question warranted serious thought. Even though inside Max already knew the answer, admitting it out loud was a very different thing. Love was a strong word, did it qualify for how she felt about Logan?

"I don't think..." she hesitated as she was about to say no, her blatant fear for his life overcoming her anger once again.

Zack leaned close, his eyes level with hers.

"I _need_ to know, Max," he demanded. "Do you love him?"

She swallowed deeply, her eyes stinging from holding back an onslaught of emotion.

"I think...I think I do," she finally managed to choke out.

"Excuse me." Kim interrupted their discussion. "I've got you a pilot and a plane coming in from Logan, should be here in about an hour."

"Logan?" Max asked, thrown off guard.

"Yeah, Logan International Airport in Billings," Kim replied, as if everyone in the world knew that the airport in Billings was named Logan. Had she been in a better mood, Max would have found the irony of the situation amusing.

"Who do we pay?" Zack asked, his shoulders squared and his expression stony.

"Pay the pilot," she answered, leaning over the counter a little to give him a good view of her endowments. "He's doin' the two of you a big favor you know...comin' in all the way from Billings at this time of night."

"We're touched...really," Max broke in, taking Zack by the arm. If he was going to move on from her, pretty little dark haired Kim wasn't the place to start. Somehow, Max had always imagined someone like her to be the kind of woman Logan would end up with. Petite, but only in stature, with classically beautiful features. She certainly never dared to imagine him with someone like her.

"You know, Max," Zack pulled his arm out of her grasp. "I don't being treated like a criminal just because I don't like your little boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," Max insisted for the millionth time in her life. "And this is not about you not liking him. You've gone way past that, Zack."

"He knew what he was getting into," Zack pointed out. "It's not like he thought you were some innocent girl from the suburbs when he met you. He knew from the get-go that a relationship with you was a dangerous thing."

Zack's statement took Max's breath away. He'd presented an aspect of things she'd never considered before. Had Logan really known what he was getting himself into with her? Would he want to still have any kind of relationship with her now that he fully realized just how dangerous knowing her could be? Even more important, did she want him -- her very own Prince Charming -- to be swallowed up by the black cloud that followed in her footsteps?

"It doesn't matter," she finally replied. "If he's in trouble, it's because of me and I have to help him."

Zack nodded slowly, and the two sat down dejectedly to wait for the arrival of their flight. Max's mind was consumed with all that occurred in a relatively short time span. She'd left Seattle, walked away from Logan, and traveled hundreds of miles only to find herself sitting in a small town Montana airport waiting for a passenger plane to take her back.

She wondered at first why Zack had insisted on traveling east before running into Canada. Now, things were more clear. He'd been worried Lydecker would get to Logan before they had the chance to make it to the boarder -- the most obvious place to go. So, instead of going strait north Zack had plotted a route that would take them as far away from Seattle as quickly as possible with few hitches along the way. A move of high tactical planning, Max began to doubt his profession that he didn't think Lydecker was close enough to actually present a threat to Logan.

Wearily, she rested her chin against her chest. Her stomach was churning, and for a few nervous moments she thought she was going to throw up on her shoes. However, she managed somehow to recover her composure and replaced the stoic mask she had come to perfect.

To the outside world, Max didn't feel anything. She was oriented toward self-preservation, and damn good at performing under that pretense. She was a woman not to be messed with, the kind that got things done and never allowed anything to get in her way -- a woman made of discipline and stone.

To the outside world, she was impenetrable.

Inside, Max was a child, and a frightened one at that. Only, she didn't fear the normal things most children carry on into their adulthood. She feared being attached, being out of control, letting someone into her heart. Logan represented everything she was afraid of.

_ Odd to think of the man you love as your worst nightmare..._

Love? Had she just thought that word? Logan's easy manner, his gentle but seductive eyes...they made it so much easier for her to tag the word as being not so bad. But, it still contained the negative connotation she had forced on it for so long. Deep down, she wanted to be loved and love in return, but wasn't at all sure she would be able to handle it.

The hour passed by agonizingly slowly, giving Max more time than she cared to have to sort through her feelings. She was startled when Zack nudged her with his elbow.

"Let's go, Max," he said, an almost imperceptible edge to his voice. She looked up to see Kim staring at them, a tall, sandy haired man in front of the desk wearing a green sweatshirt and jeans.

"You two must be my passengers," the man smiled amicably at them as they walked up. "Name's John Rudinski...you ready to leave?" Rudinski had kind, brown eyes and a light unassuming attitude that put Max at ease. She got the feeling he wouldn't ask any questions.

"Been ready for the past hour," Max waved a hand, then turned to Kim. "Got my ninja outside...make sure no one hauls her off for me."

Max wasn't one to leave her motorcycle, but faced with loosing it or Logan, he came out on top. So, the ninja would have to wait.

"I'll send someone out to take it around back," Kim replied, her eyes locked on Zack rather than Max. Rolling her own chocolaty brown eyes, Max hurried the pilot out the door.

"Let's get the two of you loaded up," he muttered mostly to himself as he walked across the lot toward the runway where a small passenger plane with a blue stripe was waiting.

Max vaulted into the small vehicle the moment he opened the door. Zack calmly climbed in beside her. She was eager to go, and very tired of waiting. As Rudinski preformed a quick check and pulled on a pair of headphones with a microphone attached she tapped her right foot. The movement was quick and incessant, and it slowly began to get on Zack's nerves until finally he put one hand down on her leg and held it down.

"Hope you got yourselves seated back there," Rudinski called over the planes engines.

"It's about time..." Max grumbled under her breath, trying not notice Zack's hand which was still on her leg. She didn't mind him touching her or being near her, but the idea of some of the ways he obviously wanted to touch her made her uneasy. She couldn't even bring herself to imagine sleeping with Zack. There mere idea of it was ludicrous.

Logan, however...it was too easy to imagine herself in his bed. In fact, she'd become a master at imagining just such a scenario. In her mind she knew exactly how he would look, what he would say, how he would feel and taste...she had every detail carefully mapped and logged.

Resting her chin in her hand, she looked out the small boxy plane window as it lurched into the sky and roared toward Seattle.

***

Night had fallen, and the room in which Logan had spent his entire day sitting in was shrouded in darkness. A low light from under the door was the only thing that served to illuminate his surroundings. The back of his head continued to throb, but the pain had dipped to bearable levels. Or, maybe he'd just become used to it.

He jumped when he heard voices outside the door. He gazed down toward the crack where light was flowing in and saw two distinct blocks, allowing him to determine that there were either two people on the other side or one person talking to himself with his legs set apart. He placed his bet on the former moments before the door swung open and two men came striding in.

The bright light that flooded in momentarily blinded him, and it took him a moment to recognize one of the voices. When he did, panic rose up in his throat high enough to choke him.

_ Lydecker._

He silently thanked the heavens that he had him instead of Max, then followed it with a plea for his own safety.

"Finally decided to come around, did you?" Lydecker asked, squatting down so his eyes were level with Logan's. "Didn't think my boys hit you _that_ hard."

"Maybe you should think on checking your prisoners more often," Logan replied, scowling. "I've been up half the damn day."

Lydecker cast a glance around the room, taking note of the dried blood on the floor.

"So it seems," he nodded, then stood up. "Get him out of here."

The other man, who had remained in the shadows rushed toward Logan, grabbing him by his upper arms. As he pulled him up off his seat on the floor, Logan's knees buckled, throwing his weight forward. His feet were still tied together, and hid legs had long ago fallen asleep from sitting in the same position.

The man groaned with the effort of supporting Logan's weight and cast an imploring glance Lydecker's way.

"Drag him if you have to, I don't care," Lydecker shrugged. "Just make sure he can talk."

An expression that lined murderous on the strange man's face, he turned back to Logan and, with a grunt of effort, began to slowly haul him from the room. As they went down the hallway, Logan continually tripped over his own feet and became aware of the plastic zip ties digging into his skin. They obviously didn't want him getting away.

After an agonizing fifteen minutes, Logan was deposited in a chair in a dimly lit room. He took a moment to look around the room, taking note of the low ceiling and bad lighting. It reminded him of a classic interrogation room, only this one was somehow harsher than any he'd ever had grace his eyes. This one stunk of fear and desperation. It was designed to break people, to break their spirit and resolve.

He took a long breath as Lydecker entered the room, a few of his men trailing behind him. The smile that crossed his lips was sickly pleased. He slammed the door behind him and walked up to Logan.

"I'd take these," he said, motioning to Logan's glasses. "But I want you to see me clearly when I kill you."

"Not everyday a man gets to look the devil in the eyes," Logan agreed, earning himself a firm hit from behind with the butt of someone's gun. The impact made his head swim and he thought for a few seconds he would pass out again.

"We know who you are," Lydecker announced. "But we don't give a shit about your piddly little Eyes Only crap. I know you've had contact with her and that you know what she is...that we care about. Now, if you tell me where she is, I might be lenient and just shoot."

"Can't catch a fish without a hook, Lydecker," Logan replied, still blinking to bring the world back into focus. "If I die either way, I'm not giving her up."

"I never said you would die either way," he replied. "Trust me when I say that there are worse things than death in this world."

"I'm sure," Logan agreed, but refused to bend.

"We know she contacted you, Mr. Cale," Lydecker leaned close enough that Logan felt as if his personal space had been violated. "It wasn't very difficult to figure out that she was the legs for Eyes Only, nor figuring out that you were the hacker. We identified both of your voices when she called you...now tell me where she is."

"I can't tell you what I honestly don't know," Logan shrugged. Lydecker's eyes narrowed dangerously and he roughly backhanded Logan. The force behind the swing was enough to nearly knock his chair over, but someone standing behind him caught it and set it upright once again. 

"Tell me where she is!" Lydecker demanded, his eyes fiery.

"No," Logan replied in a voice filled with a deadly calm.

The last thing he saw was a swift motion of Lydecker's right hand before something connected with the back of his head, causing blackness to quickly overtake his vision.

~last part coming soon...which is going to be pretty long because I have a lot to cover in it, but I can't force myself to break it up!~


	7. Part 7

Rating: R

Disclaimer: We all know who owns DA, and it's not me.

A/N: Way sorry for the wait, but I've been so busy this week and I haven't had time at all to write. Not to mention I wrote some, decided I hated it...started again...hated it (vicious cycle and I suck at action). Anyway, this is what I came up with, not quite what I anticipated when I started this fic, but I've thought about this a lot, and I think it ended the only way it really could...Oh yeah....I know Zack couldn't really take the elevator up to Logan's apartment (needing the key and all) but, well...I'm overlooking that...

By the way, all of you who read _Hidden Behind Glass_ and weren't sure, it was Normal. I didn't ever use his name for a reason, but just so you know, it was him.

Wild is the Wind

"_I couldn't be the one_

To make your dreams come true

That's why I had to run

Though I needed you...

Wild, wild is the wind

That takes me away from you

Cold is the night without your love

To see me through

Wild, wild is the wind

That blows through my heart tonight."

-Bon Jovi

Max was sprinting down the street toward Logan's apartment. She and Zack had arrived back in Seattle moments earlier and she'd immediately bailed out of the plane, leaving Zack to pay the pilot. After all, it was his fault that they'd had need of the man's services in the first place. She had other things to do.

Adrenaline coursing hotly through her veins, she lowered her head and picked up her pace. Although she was remotely aware of the fact that she would probably need Zack's help, she knew he would catch up to her. He'd always been faster than her, and she'd never been able to understand how a man as bulky as he was could move so quickly. Unfortunately, such ponderings on Zack's inner workings were second place to Max's burning need to reach Logan.

_Logan_. He was all she thought of.

Careening around a corner, she nearly collided with a car coming down the street. The man inside leaned out the window, and began yelling all the obscene names he knew. Max noted that he was quickly silenced after "bitch" and during "dirty whore." Moments later, Zack came up even with her, his arms pumping.

Heedless of the attention she was attracting, Max darted in and out of the shadows going up to Logan's building. If Lydecker had him, he wouldn't make it hard for Max to be able to come to them. She knew enough about him to know it was an outright trap, but it was one trap she wasn't going to pick through. This one would be broken by the brute force of a woman in love. The stories people told about mothers lifting up cars to save their trapped babies was nothing compared to the rush of angry, frightened strength being pumped into Max's muscles.

"I'll take the stairs," she announced as they entered the sparkling lobby of the building. "You take the elevator."

Zack nodded and made a bee-line for the elevator. She turned, throwing open a door that clearly said "stairs" across its front on bold, black lettering. She raced up the flights of stairs faster than she had ever moved in her life, her feet only connecting with every third step.

She arrived in front of Logan's apartment moments before Zack. She grabbed the doorknob, finding the door unlocked. As she barged into the room, she was met with the distinct scent of Logan hanging dimly in the air. Her hand shaking, she turned on the light.

Astounded, she looked around the penthouse to find nothing out of place. Everything was carefully placed exactly where it had been when she'd left. Wary, she stepped hesitantly inside, Zack at her back. The feeling of having him so near by eased her fear somewhat, and while her muscles didn't relax her heart beat slowed.

"There's got to be something somewhere," she murmured to herself.

"I'll check the other room," Zack replied, moving her aside with a gentle touch to her arm. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she began her own search, trying to find some clue as to where Lydecker could have taken Logan. For a moment, as she brushed her dark hair out of her eyes, she wondered if Lydecker didn't even have him and they would only make a complete idiot out of her when he returned to find them snooping through his apartment because he hadn't answered the phone.

Max could almost imagine his laughter at learning that the always cool headed Max had gotten so fired up over a phone call that she'd demanded she and Zack travel backwards hundreds of miles to make sure nothing was wrong. A little embarrassed, but still with the aching feeling that something was wrong, she walked over to his dining room table.

Gently, she brushed her fingers across it's smooth top.

_ So many good memories here...fancy dinners...nice company too._

"Max, come here!" Her fingers came to an abrupt halt as Zack's voice interrupted her small reverie.

Rushing to the other room, she nearly lost her footing -- something that never happened to Max. She wasn't clumsy and rarely, if ever, tripped over her own feet. Still, she refused to admit to herself that her worry for her friend had overtaken her senses to the point where her simplest functions were disabled.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes making a quick scan of Logan's office.

"The computer," Zack replied, motioning toward it as if at any moment something would jump out of it and bite him. For a genetically engineered man, he was ridiculously afraid of technology. Somehow, Max didn't blame him. When she looked at Logan's computer, she saw a powerful tool and a thing that could rip what little meaning she had been able to find from her life. In Logan's hands, the small boxy object worked miracles, but, with what Max had learned from watching him, she also knew that the same technology could be used for evil. The same kind of evil she was spawned from.

Sitting down in Logan's chair, she typed in a short password and command that stopped the gentle, flashing blue light which had alerted Zack. Immediately, a video came across the screen.

"You know, I really have to try harder next time because I'm beginning to think we really fucked you guys up," Lydecker's tired features came across the screen. "Should have seen it from the beginning you'd be the soft hearted one, Max...you were always so...well, we probably shouldn't go into that, should we?"

His lips contorted into a vicious grin.

"But Zack...now that was one I didn't see coming," he laughed. "Interesting little conversation you had with your friend Logan. Anyway...if you want him back, you're going to have to come and get him, but I can't guarantee that he'll be in one piece when you get here, so you'd better move faster than you ever did back in Gillette."

Next to her, Max could feel the anger radiating from Zack as he watched the tape.

"I'm disappointed you came back," Lydecker continued. "Thought I trained you a hell of a lot better than that." The camera angle shifted for a moment as Lydecker got up, showing Logan being drug out of the room in the background. Split seconds later, the screen went black.

Max and Zack sat for moments in complete silence as everything sank in.

_ He didn't look good...oh, God..._

"Let's go, Max," Zack's hand came to rest on her shoulder. Through her light jacket, she could feel the heat of his skin and was aware of the slight tension in his fingers as they gripped her.

Shaken, she stood up, the flashing light on Logan's answering machine catching her eye. Her message, her desperate attempt to reach out to him that had never been received. Forcing herself to reign in her ever wilder emotions, she collected herself. All hope was in her regaining control and the ability to think clearly, the last thing Logan needed was her running in and getting herself killed so that she could join him in his grave.

Cringing, she knew Manticore wouldn't be as kind to her as Logan. She was their property, to be handled and disposed of as they saw fit. The barcode on the back of her neck was a constant reminder that she was not free, and never would be. It was her leash, the mark that singled her out as inhuman. Most likely, if she died at the hands of Lydecker and Manticore she's be in so many pieces that she wouldn't need a grave.

"Where do we start?" she wondered aloud, not having any idea where to begin. Normally, she would have been shocked at her inability to come up with a good plan of attack, but her mind was filled with only one thing, and it wasn't helping her be the tactical genius she was taught to be. Zack, however, was still in firm control.

"We know Lydecker well enough to rule out quite a few places," he replied as they rushed toward the door. Max tried to listen, but couldn't seem to will herself to. Logan's face kept circling in her brain, unwilling to go away. His image seemed to be burned on the inside of her eyelids, there was no escape from him.

"We need a ride," Max noted, her calf muscle twitching as they waited for the elevator, taking the crucial time to think the situation through. She forced herself to run over the details she'd seen in the video when Lydecker had got up. Their intention, obviously, was to do one of two things: lure her to them, or extract her location from Logan. Once they got either, he was as good as dead. With her knowledge of Logan, she doubted he'd told them as much as his middle name, which meant he was probably still alive.

"Not a problem," Zack said, tossing her a grin. She frowned.

_ How could he grin and joke at a time like this? Callous bastard..._

It was a callousness she at once hated and envied. She'd been like him once, and still was for the most part. Her last moments with Logan immediately came to mind. She'd never told him how she felt, never even admitted to herself that her feelings were anything more than a strange effect from something she'd had for lunch. She could see the same kind of denial within Zack. They'd been taught from an early age to look the other way, that feeling was bad; where they'd been, feeling _had_ been an awful thing. No one could have lived through Manticore with a soft-heart.

She bit at her bottom lip as the elevator dropped down to the ground floor; her eyes on Zack, who carefully avoided eye contact with her. Her understanding of the inner workings of his mind had been tested in the past few days, and she had failed miserably. Even as she stood, observing him, she was no closer to the man she called her brother than she had been when she first came to Seattle. He was still a mystery to her, an enigma that refused to be solved. Long ago, she'd decided that Zack was too far gone into the commando state of mind to ever really think beyond it.

However, he'd professed his love for her, showing a much higher degree of emotional intellect than Max possessed. He'd pushed Logan into a bear trap, only to come back and help pull him out. There was nothing stopping him from continuing on into Canada and leaving Max to her own devices on her way back to Seattle. Not accompanying her would undoubtedly have been the best strategic choice, but, oddly, he'd shown more humanity than she had in choosing love over tact. Perhaps she'd discounted her brother too soon.

They walked out into the night. The glow to the east signified the quickly approaching dawn. How long did they have to find Logan before Lydecker assumed she wasn't coming? A day? An hour? Max preferred not to think about it.

"There," Zack leaned in close to her, his hand gesturing lightly toward a motorcycle parked across the street. "Noticed it as we came in."

Max hadn't, which she couldn't deny made her angry.

"Not a ninja, but I'm betting it moves a hell of a lot faster than either of us do," he shrugged. Max nodded and the two crossed the street, creeping invisibly through the shadows. As they neared the vehicle, Max decided they would both be better off with Zack driving. She was distracted and needed time to think, and he obviously already had more of the situation unraveled than she did anyway.

Roughly, she signaled to him with her hand. He replied with a sharp signal of his own that she almost didn't catch.

_ Gettin' rusty, Girl._

Silently, she met Zack beside the motorcycle after he finished checking to make sure no one was around. The last thing they needed was someone seeing them stealing something and getting stuck in jail for the night. Apparently confident that the street was empty, Zack climbed onto it, motioning for Max to follow. She stepped on behind him, wrapping her arms around his wide chest to anchor herself down.

The roar of the engine filled the post-morning silence and Max could feel the vibrations run up her body. Pushing the kickstand up, Zack peeled away from the sidewalk, tearing down the empty streets.

"Where are we going?" Max asked over the biting wind and engine.

"Lydecker's military, Max," Zack yelled back to her. "He knows where his assets lie, and that's in numbers. He's got to have some kind of military outpost he's working from."

"How is it you know so much about what he's doing here, and I don't have a clue?" she demanded.

"Maybe you should pay attention to what's going on around you rather than the scenery," he replied.

"Scenery?" Max yelled back. "I'm assuming your talking about Logan. You know, you seem a little obsessed with him."

"Not him, someone else," Zack yelled in return, his voice nearly drowned out by the air rushing by them.

Darkly, Max sat quietly behind him. She had been a little lax due to her infatuation with Logan, but that certainly wasn't his place to point out.

She turned her head, watching the buildings flash by. Banks, hotels, warehouses, they all looked pretty much the same: pathetic, old, and run-down. Logan always kept an eye on the real-estate around him. He was very aware who bought what and what they did with it. Never one to miss out on an opportunity, he seemed to get more joy out of busting bad guys in his own backyard than somewhere across the city.

"Zack...turn here!" She dug her elbows into him, reinforcing her command.

"Why?" he tossed back, ignoring her arms digging into his sides.

"A warehouse a few blocks away, it was bought about a month ago, but Logan was never able to find out who bought it," she replied, not liking having to explain herself. "It could be Lydecker, what better place to run your operation from than a few blocks from ground zero?"

"Your going to break one of my ribs, Max," Zack announced as if the fact were inconsequential. As she released her grip, he swung around the corner, the motorcycle tipping and weaving expertly as he sped up to an otherwise dangerous velocity. With anyone else driving, Max would have been nervous, but she was confident that Zack's reflexes were just as quick as her own.

"There! Up there!" she pointed, leaning forward, wanting to be there quicker. Zack slowed and came to a stop a block away from the warehouse.

"Looks abandoned, Max," he said frowning.

"We have to check," she insisted.

"You're wasting time," he replied sharply.

"Why? Do you have some better idea?" she demanded.

"Yeah, quite a few really," he answered angrily. "Why would he use a warehouse? The rooms are too big, nowhere to keep Logan, no where to privately conduct business."

"Wait...look!" Max hissed, pointing toward a dim light in one of the windows. "It's got to be them, Zack. I've got this feeling in the pit of my stomach that he's there."

"Might want to head a little lower with that feeling," Zack replied bitterly, then seemed to shift moods on her again by patting her thigh and pulling around the side of the warehouse.

"This is it...I know it is," Max insisted again as she climbed off the motorcycle. As she looked up at the building, her heart pounded. She knew she was close, no one else could make her blood boil like Logan.

***

Logan was becoming used to waking up in the isolated, cold little room. For the third time, he found himself sitting in the salty smelling environment. His head hurt like hell, but he was alive and that was all that really mattered. No -- what really mattered was that Max was safe. He figured that she and Zack were probably hundreds of miles away, Max sleeping soundly in some hotel room bed.

The thought was comforting, and he allowed himself to envision himself there with her. It was all together less painful for him to imagine himself with her only to realize he would never have her than to see her in his mind with someone else. He wouldn't allow himself to think of her that way, groaning in someone else's arms. That, well, that hurt ten times worse than his head.

Leaning his head tentatively against the wall, he closed his eyes. Shutting himself out of the depressing world around him and creating his own. Logan was an expert escapist, although he'd heard that a person's imaginative capability dwindles with age, his seemed to have only matured. He also found that he much preferred the world he tailor created to the one reality presented.

So, within his own mind, he sat on the side of Max's bed. The mattress bending with his weight, causing her to roll toward him. Her eyes flashed open as her arm came into contact with him. However, the look he received wasn't one of hostility, but open invitation. He took the invitation he saw, and bent down to press a gentle kiss to her mouth. The touch was soft and fleeting. As he pulled away, he brushed her cheek with his fingers. Lightly...everything was incredibly light and gentle.

Smiling, she lifted her head to meet his once again, giving to him the same way he gave to her. Her kiss traveled low, until she hooked his bottom lip between her teeth. She teased him only once before letting go, signifying it was his turn to continue the game.

Games -- that was what was wrong between the two of them, wasn't it? The playing and tugging, but never giving. No, he and Max definitely didn't do enough giving.

He looked down at his imaginary Max, wanting to do more than give his heart to her. He wanted to worship her, to hide her under his wing and protect her like the precious jewel she was.

Bending down again, he kissed her more firmly, earning a long sigh that feathered past his skin. He could feel the soft rise and fall of her chest as he lowered himself on top of her. The gentle up and down was soothing underneath him, her body warm. She opened her mouth, letting him deepen the kiss like he wanted to. Still, there was no urgency in their embrace, only the delicate alignment of everything in their lives that was right and good coming together.

Her hand brushed his face, then buried itself in his hair. His own hands were traveling down her sides, hardly leaving a trace as they moved. The hurried passion gone out of him, all he wanted was to spend eternity in the exact position he was in.

"Come on! Quick!" He was snapped out of his imaginary world as the real world ran by his door, yelling. The voices traveled away down the hallway, leaving Logan once again alone to contend with his emotions and contemplate his situation.

***

Max took out the first two men she came across easily. Taking their weapons, she kept one and tossed the other to Zack. They crept down the long hallway, wary of other men lurking about. The two had agreed before coming in not to speak to each other, and to use the hand signals instead.

Zack signaled to her that he would move ahead, giving her the cue to start her frantic search for Logan. She could almost feel his presence as she walked down the stark, cement walled passage. For a few moments, she watched Zack ahead of her as he took down the few people lingering in the hall. Checking all the rooms they'd come by, Max found nothing.

Keeping close on Zack's heels, she followed him down the rest of the hallway, which opened up into a large, spacious room. Max walked into it, fully expecting an ambush. When it didn't come, she immediately become more alert. Lydecker was no fool, he had a plan. She was upset to find that she didn't see it.

Zack pointed toward another hallway that opened on the other side of the room, and she nodded. He stepped hesitantly out to the middle of the room, his muscles rigid. Max paused to put the gun she'd taken from the first man she'd encountered in her jacket pocket.

The people she'd be up against would have guns, she wouldn't be caught without one as well.

Eager to find Logan, she brushed her vision quickly over the room before emerging from the shadows. As far as she knew, he was being executed as she stood there, and she was determined to get him out alive and well. In that moment, that highly charged moment, his safety was all that mattered.

Her legs bent a little, ready to pounce if necessary, as she joined Zack, her arm brushing against his as she passed by.

"Be right back," she whispered, leaning close to him. He nodded curtly. He didn't need to tell her that he didn't like the situation they were in, didn't like her risking her life for Logan Cale. However, as much as she loved and respected her brother, she had no choice in the matter.

As she moved toward the hallway on the other side of the room, the shadows suddenly lurched out at them. Her heart jumping into her throat, Max dashed toward the opening with all the speed Manticore had graced her body with. Zack could defend himself, but Logan couldn't, and now that they obviously knew she was there his life meant nothing.

Her lungs ached as she tried to pull breath into her shocked system. She distantly heard the men behind her, heard guns go off, and hoped Zack was safe. She was also aware of the fact that no one was following her, for which she was exceedingly grateful.

Sprinting down the darkened corridor, she tried to decide on a door to try. When she reached the abrupt end of the hall, she spun on her heel to look back on her progress. She could see men fly past the opening, and she silently applauded her brother -- an army unto himself. As she prepared to start checking every door, one to her right swung open.

The cold click of a gun's loading mechanism filled Max's ears as she looked at the man's wide, familiar back. Looking down the hall, he was unaware of her presence behind him, and she seized the opportunity with all the vengeance and power of a demon strait from hell.

"Where is he?" She demanded, throwing Lydecker up against the wall and knocking the gun out of his hand. She noticed that it wasn't a regular gun, and suspected that the bullets were specially made, probably filled with a strong sedative or poison. Even after years, Manticore wasn't dead. The experiment was still running, and they weren't about to terminate it by killing the subjects.

Lydecker's eyes bulged out of his head when they came into contact with her own.

She tightened her grip on his throat as she pushed him savagely against the wall.

"A little surprised?" she asked. "Thought you would be. Didn't think Zack would come back with me, did you? Now, where's Logan?"

She let up her grip on his throat a bit, allowing him to speak.

"He's dead!" He laughed hoarsely. "You don't think I'd actually take the chance that you'd be able to get him back, with all he knows about us, did you?"

Max felt her stomach around her ankles, and rage replace where it had once been. Angrier than she could ever recall being in her life, and filled with aching, burning pain, she increased her grip on Lydecker, lifting him off the floor.

"You don't deserve to live!" she spat out at him.

"Maybe so, but today is not my day to die," he announced, choking.

Max tilted her head, not understanding how he figured he had a way out. Moments later, she felt the chilling point of a gun press to her stomach. Her gaze traveled down to look at the weapon in his hand, then back up to meet his triumphant eyes.

"Goodbye, Max," he snarled.

She flinched when she heard the gun go off, only it seemed somehow more distant, far off. She didn't feel the pain, and it took her long moments to register the fact that she wasn't injured.

Lydecker slumped in her grasp, the gun clattering to the cement floor out of his grip. She looked up at him, at his blood splattered, lifeless face. Then, she turned, seeing Zack down the hall, a smoking weapon still hanging from his arm. He dropped it then, everything moving in slow motion. He blinked once, twice...stared intently at his sister.

Unable to breathe, she dropped Lydecker, who landed in a crumpled heap on the ground. Her life long enemy, the man who frightened her more than almost anything -- she'd only recently discovered something that inspired more rampant fear in her heart -- was dead.

Gasping, she took a small amount of air into her lungs. The smell of his blood -- the salty, warm scent -- brought her back to her senses as it began to pool openly on the floor. An eerie silence settled over the building as she stood, processing in her head all that had occurred..

"Logan..." she whispered, breaking it. He was dead, just like Lydecker. She couldn't bring herself to believe it. The tears streaming down her face were unrestrained, filled with all the anger, grief, and outright pain she'd hidden for so long. Her inner control crumbled to pieces around her, the façade she kept of strength bled away onto the floor, joining it's maker.

"He's not dead...I can't believe it...he's not," she whispered brokenly as Zack started down the hall toward her.

"Max...let him go," he insisted.

Her hot gaze pinned him.

"He's not dead," she hissed through clenched teeth, then franticly turned to check all of the rooms. The first she checked were empty, and as each empty one passed she grew more upset, her emotions taking full control of her for the first time in her life.

She opened doors, searched the rooms insanely.

"Max...stop," Zack attempted to intervene, only to find himself shoved violently into the wall.

Desperate now, she tried the next door. As it swung open, her eyes came to rest on him, laying on the floor, his hair wet with blood and his hands bound behind his back. All of the air that had ever even thought of being in her body rushed away from her, and her muscles froze.

"No...oh God...no," she cried, stepping into the room. She walked hesitantly up to his body, her vision blurred by tears. Crouching down beside him, she was afraid to look. Behind her, she was hardly aware of Zack standing in the doorway.

"Logan?" she asked, touching his face with her hand.

His eyes flashed open, surprising her.

"Max?" he blinked a few times, as if he couldn't believe she was there.

"Logan?" she breathed, the relief running through her system like hot lead. "You're alive...I can't believe it....you're alive!" Her elation grew as the depression of the previous few moments wore off. Grabbing his head in her hands, she pressed her lips to his. Forcefully, she pushed her tongue into his mouth, kissing him wildly. His taste was a marked difference from the one she remembered from a previous kiss they had shared, this time there was a tinge of salt to his tongue.

Her eyes pinched tightly shut, she threw herself into him with all the frightening emotion of the previous twenty-four hours. His reaction was slow and somewhat dulled, bringing her back from the brink of complete relief-born rapture.

She pulled away, aware of the way she couldn't help but linger a little to long. As she looked down at him, his eyes remained closed. Her hands remained deeply buried in his hair, made stiff with sweat, blood, and fear. His eyes, his beautiful cerulean blue eyes, opened slowly then as his tongue darted out to make a slow line across his lips.

"Only you can save a man's life with such flair, Max," he murmured.

They stared at one another for a moment, their eyes locked, sub-consciously giving and taking of one another. For the first time, Max saw his open up to reveal his inner emotions. She figured hers were probably overflowing with all the foreign things she'd found locked away in her heart. Never had she even imagined that she was capable of thinking, or feeling a number of the things she had felt in only the previous hour. The stress of the emotional high made her heavy with weariness.

"Hold still," she commanded, coming somewhat back to her senses. Not having the key for his handcuffs, and not wanting to waste the time to go find it, she grabbed the chain running between the middle and with a flick of her wrists snapped the middle link. The plastic zip ties proved to be somewhat more of a challenge. As she sat, pulling on the plastic to get it to release, she almost didn't notice Zack standing beside her in the room, offering her a pocketknife.

"Thank you," she said, her throat dry. He only responded with an impersonal nod as he released the small weapon into her hand. The knife went through the plastic easily, releasing Logan's legs. He sighed with relief, rolling onto his stomach with his hands under him. Max stared down at the back of his head where there was a wound that had only recently clotted. She guessed it was from being hit with something, and feeling the need to comfort him, she reached out to settle her hand on his shoulder.

Logan forced himself up with his arms, getting into a kneeling position that Max helped him out of. His arm tossed around her shoulders, they walked together out of the bleak room. His head lolled against hers, and she wondered if he had a concussion or was about to pass out. 

Zack looked up as they stepped out into the hall, his expression black. Max looked at him for a moment before realizing what was wrong with the picture he presented. At his feet was a dark puddle, but Lydecker's body was absent. 

"Fuck" was all he said. 

***

Zack stood in the bright hospital hallway. People rushed past him, their faces determined, worried, and pained. He hated hospitals, they reminded him too much of Manticore, of the time he'd spent around doctors who tinkered with his body in ways he hadn't imagined possible. 

Frowning, he walked into the room where Logan was staying. Max was sitting in a chair next to his bed, her body folded halfway onto the bed as she slept. Her head snuggled against Logan's side, who was staring intently down at her. The hospital staff had recommended keeping Logan awake due to his head injury. The job of making sure he didn't sleep had fallen upon Max's shoulders. Ironic that she, who was engineered not to need sleep, had fallen into it snuggled beside him.

"Feeling better?" Zack asked quietly.

Logan started at the sound of his voice, his head snapping around to meet Zack's eyes. 

"Much better, thank you," he replied.

"I'm going to be leaving today," Zack announced, walking to stand on the side of the bed opposite Max. His eyes rested not on Logan, but on the top of her downy soft head. His heart swelled until he thought for sure it would burst.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like," Logan replied.

"No, I think going would be better," Zack shook his head. "God only knows if Lydecker's still alive, and besides, Max is...otherwise occupied."

"You know," Logan raised one hand to rub his eyes, "you don't have to keep running."

"Look who's talking," Zack snorted in reply. "You let her go without even telling her." Zack was very aware that people discounted him. He was an observant man, and he rarely missed the underlying currents between people. Even he would have to have been completely unaware to miss the strong ties between Logan and Max. He'd resented them at first, indeed he still did, but he'd come to accept that Max wasn't the small girl he remembered.

When he'd watched her run into Logan's cell, bury her fingers in his hair and kiss him, his heart had shattered into a million pieces. He'd spent the time since carefully picking them up. He wasn't quite ready to put them back together, but, in time, he knew that it was something he would get over. Zack was like that, he was used to having to push everything that hurt him away.

Sadly, he shifted his gaze back to Max. He needed her, badly, but he couldn't have her. 

"I don't know what your talking about," Logan finally replied, his voice wavering. 

Frustrated, Zack ran his hand through his too long hair, his jaw tightly clenched. The least Logan could do was treat her the way she deserved to be instead of playing endless games with her heart. 

"You know, Cale," Zack sighed, steeling himself against what he was about to say, "she loves you, which is more than I can say. If I was in your place, I wouldn't be wasting my time fucking around with little games of denial."

Logan's face took on a humbled expression, and he blushed slightly.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because she's my everything," Zack answered, turning to leave, "but I can't seem to make her happy." 

He walked out, never turning to look back. He knew that if he looked back, he wouldn't be able to keep going, and that scared the hell out of him. Lydecker's body had disappeared, he had obligations to ten other people who he couldn't allow to get hurt. Life was a painful journey alone, but it had been more painful in knowing the only woman he'd ever let into his tightly guarded heart was bitterly empty. 

Not for the first time, Zack walked away and tried to ignore the gaping, bleeding wound in his soul.

***

Logan stood in front of his bathroom mirror, gingerly touching the back of his head. 

"Always thought you had a hard head, now I've got proof," Max joked from he doorway.

He sent her a look that conveyed he didn't appreciate the jest. She sent him one of her blinding smiles in return. He'd suffered a concussion and gotten a few stitches in the back of his head, but there was no permanent damage done by the ordeal, except perhaps the newly created fissures in his heart. 

Zack's visit to the hospital haunted him. The broken hurt he'd seen in the other man's eyes had effected Logan in a way he hadn't expected it to. He'd never realized the way the games he and Max played really effected either of them, or other people. In fact, he'd been trying to work up the courage to finally tell her how he felt.

"I should probably get back to work before Normal goes on the war path," Max sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

"Thanks for stopping by," Logan said, walking up to her. 

"Thought I'd make sure you hadn't fallen down and recracked your noggin," she shrugged, smiling. He'd been a little dizzy from the medicine he'd gotten at the hospital, and she was a constant tease. 

"Nice to know you're thinking about me," Logan laughed, moving her gently aside with the brush of a hand. 

She followed him to the living room.

"Actually, I was wondering about something else," she admitted, biting at her bottom lip. "Did you talk to Zack before he left?"

"Yeah," he admitted.

"Did he...I mean...did he leave because I was pissed off at him?"

"I don't think so."

"Because I chewed his ass out pretty good..."

"He didn't say anything about it," Logan shrugged. 

"Oh." She looked sad. "Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"Never mind...." she turned to leave, but hesitated. He could plainly see that she missed her brother and he couldn't help but think that maybe there were times when Zack needed her more than he did. Times when she needed her brother instead of a friend, instead of a lover. Logan wanted to be her lover, to be her everything, but he was only to aware that he couldn't be. She needed Zack in her life.

"Max?" She stopped, turned around.

"What?"

"Maybe in a few weeks, me and you can take a little vacation, try and find him?" She smiled and walked back to him. She stood close enough that he could smell her shampoo.

"That would be nice," she said, looking up at him. He wanted to kiss her with every fiber of his being. Her eyes searched his for a moment before she reached out and touched his arm. "Guess I'd better go."

She started to walk away, but he couldn't let her go. He grabbed her hand, the simple gesture breaking both of them. They came together, for once unrestrained. Their lips sought one another and locked in a deep, passionate embrace. 

When they pulled apart, breathless, her eyes were dancing. 

"Maybe we can go sooner than a couple weeks," she suggested, then, grinning, walked out his door. He watched her go, his feelings tangled. There was a wall between them that had been broken, but it wasn't yet the right time to give professions of love that neither of them were ready to give or receive. There was yet two rifts that stood between them, one of which was Zack. The other, well...the other was Max herself. For so long, he'd thought they could be together if he could walk, and he'd concentrated on that until finally he could. However, that had been only one block to get past. 

With time, they would be together. In a time when Max was ready to ready to hand her heart to him, in a time when he would be able to drop the walls around his. 

Until then, they would remain. He, the determined, resilient man. She, the strong, intelligent young woman. Neither able to give the other what they needed, and both contending with the currents running through and between them that were as abandoned and wild as the wind.

*Was it what you expected? Not how I thought it was going to end, being the shipper I am. But really, this is a story about Zack...and that, maybe, sometimes, he does need Max more than Logan does. There are times when the only one I want, and need, is my big brother and no one else will do no matter how much I may like (or even daresay love) them. Ugh, I'd better quit explaining myself while I'm ahead! Let me know what you thought.*


End file.
